'Summer's lease.....

so soon is run.....'

Never a truer word spoken, Bard.

Summer's lease has well and truly expired, with a welter of lashing rainstorms to mark what seems to be much more like a foreclosure, with the bailiffs of approaching winter bundling summer unceremoniously out the door.

So I type this with the wood-burner lit and some warming cheese on toast and a bottle of Guinness close to hand.

Comfort, I feel, is essential.

Ah. The phone just rang, (it was Jackie), and while my back was turned, (literally, leaning out of the window into the precipitation to maintain some sort of mobile signal), a certain Ginger & White Menace scoffed most of the cheese off one slice!

I have decided to forgive him instantly on the grounds that he was a bit poorly over the weekend.

This attempt to purloin the cheesy comestibles is clearly a sign of a return to rude good health.


Actually, my own health has not been the Joe Guest of late. I've been feeling run-down and haven't been sleeping well. I saw the Doc on Wednesday regarding, among other fairly neurotic middle-aged-male type ailments, a mole on my back which has decided to do all the things that moles aren't supposed to do, and have, as a result, been given a fast-track appointment at The Addenbrookes Hospital Nasty-Looking-Mole Clinic.

At least, I would have one if the buggers ever picked up the phone.........

Sigh....

Not to worry, though. Jackie is going to sort it all out for me in the morning.

Meanwhile, I'm not sure whether to put my affairs in order, cancel my Centenary of The Titanic Disaster lecture in 2012, or just not put on any long-playing records.

'Summer's lease', eh.........

A Pause......

In blogging at least. Everything else has been happening at ninety million miles an hour......

Work has been busy and very tiring. Today I coined a new acronym (The National Hole Making Service is positively awash with them....).

Adj: a "SOFA" day.

Stands for 'S*d Of A day.

I had one of these today.

Trouble is, their frequency is increasing alarmingly.

If it gets to the crucial 'SOFA week' stage, we may be paying more than cursory attention to the Jobs page in The Cambridge News......

Anyway, never mind all that load of bollards. (Go on, forgive me, this IS a boating blog after all....)...To business.

Since my last riveting piece about work benches (please at least TRY to stay awake) loads has happened.

We went to The Cambridge Folk Festival. We saw our favourite band, Pink Martini, live, AND met them afterwards at a signing.

If you don't know the band or their music, treat yourself to one of their albums, relax, listen, and have your ears bathed, your soul renewed and even the most jaded of musical palates refreshed.

They are fab!

And their singer, China Forbes, is second only in grace, beauty and roll-around-beat-out-the-flames gorgeousness to the non-singer I married......

The one thing Pink Martini aren't is a folk act.

What they were doing at the Cambridge Festival is anyone's guess. They looked somewhat bewildered themselves at the signing.....

But they weren't half good!

Also, we rescued the crew of a broken down plastic cruiser.

They were walking the two miles or so from the GOBA moorings near us to Waterbeach village when I happened upon them. It was raining and dark. They were very lost, so I gave them a lift to the village's only half decent pub in the car. There were three adults and two children, so it was a squeeze, but they were very grateful.

The following day we were heading into Ely to pump out, so arranged with the owner to meet him in the morning and tow his boat back to his mooring at The Five Miles, which we duly did.

Yes, I know it goes against the grain to encourage the use of fibreglass, but I am a firm believer in never leaving another boater up the proverbial creek, no matter what their craft, regardless of rants past.

Although now I come to think of it there are some exceptions to this rule.......

Good Grief, I'll probably be fishing newbie rowing crews out of the river next.....

In other news, Jackie and I have started a re-paint job on nb Caboodle, a little 38ft narrowboat that moors at Tracey Island with us.

Needless to say, this has brought the summer to a swift conclusion: we are now enduring one of the wettest Augusts on record.

If the National Hole-Making Service painted boats, then doubtless the conditions would be defined as 'SAW'.

S*d Awful Weather.......