Amazing what you fish out of the canal:
We used to have one of those red cars when our children were small so I was very tempted to travel along with it until our son P arrived mid afternoon and say we’d picked it up for him! Not very funny, so R disposed of it in the next CRT rubbish bins we came across. But it does amaze us finding what rubbish people dump in the canals, having no thought for the wildlife or the undercarriage of the many boats that use the waterways.
We travelled under Spaghetti junction, passing through industrial Birmingham. None of it was very pretty. Warehouses after factories and walls covered in graffiti. Eventually though we arrived at the Minworth locks and suddenly the vista changed and the canal became picturesque with beautiful weeping willows and ancient bridges. At the bottom lock we were helped through by half a dozen excitable children and two mums, one with a toddler in a pushchair. I invited them aboard for the short ride to our mooring. One of the mum’s walked along the towpath with the buggy, the toddler belonging to the mum on our boat, who was teased by her friend for forgetting she had a toddler in a pushchair. Such was everyone’s excitement at the prospect of a boat trip. A simple pleasure to offer. So many people who walk the canals daily have never experienced the joy of being on a narrowboat so if we can offer the opportunity of a ride we shall try to accommodate. Talking to the mum with the toddler, she expressed how tough lockdown had been with her two older children having special needs and her toddler being hyperactive. Once again I marvelled at how parents coped amazingly well with lockdown and what a tough call it was for many of them. This mum was not feeling sorry for herself and was full of laughter and her ‘we just have to get on with it” attitude. I got the feeling she was also a single mum so not even another adult with whom to share her burdens.
Our excitement for the day was welcoming son P onto the boat. I think he was slightly surprised at how small Naomhog is but he soon made himself at home and tried to get used to entering the door sideways. He certainly couldn’t enter with his rucksack still on his back. He and I walked to the nearest food shop which happened to be next to the railway station about a mile away. He’d only just come from there but he didn’t seem too bothered and at least the sun was shining. It enabled him to choose the food he wanted to eat and get a few beers, although as he was still drying out from the effects of his brother’s stag weekend, the beer count really was moderately low! He did want to make smores though, on the firepit R had prepared in our absence, the towpath being conveniently wide. To the unitiated, a smore consists of a digestive biscuit, chunks of milk chocolate and marshmallows, all of which you heat up on the fire. A mass of delicious gooeyness!
It was a perfect evening for a firepit and P made himself useful chopping wood. You could even say he’s a chip off the old block!
NarrowboatTLC 