And then there was Sunday
Many moons ago I walked up the canal and stopped at this. I wondered then what it meant and I still wonder the same now. My story has changed a great deal since I first saw it but I vividly remember stumbling upon it the first time I walked along the canal with the brightly coloured boats full of character lining the canal on one side and the ruined cottage in the bushes on the other side of the towpath. Over the years the cottage has been restored, but I still wonder what the story behind this is. Every time I stop at it the last eon whistles past my ears and I stand here transported back in time as if for the first time with the benefit of looking forward along the path I have trodden:
Many people don’t like the run into Oxford but I love the variety of the boats and I particularly like this gas locker; I think of Casper whenever I see it (his blog is full of things salvaged from other things for his brothers boat Sleepy Hollow built by the family).. I wonder if he likes it.
I particularly like this scene:
and then to the local pub for a pint in the evening. I took Maffi with me. He is on a writing course at the moment (as if anyone could possibly have missed that), and part of his assignment was to buy an orange and write a poem about it (sometimes it is better not to ask questions). He has been getting to know his orange, which meant the orange came for a pint too. Here it is sitting on the table and a beer.