Funny how most folk save weekends for Getting Stuff Done. Not me. I’m usually too busy going somewhere or other at weekends to Get Stuff Done. Well, I have been lately, at least. So, in order to Get Stuff Done, I took today off work. My To Do list ran thusly and in no particular order:

Buy Mum & Dad’s birthday pressies
Buy Rat Cage and possibly Rats to go in it
Buy paniers, new gloves* and cargo-net for Skorp
Clean windows and hoover flat
Clean Skorp and oil the chain
Read Fillum Script

I think there were other items, but I’ve lost the list now. I managed to complete four of the above items as well as hang around in SimonG’s magnificent chatroom for a goodly portion of the day. It may well have been this last activity which diverted me from my duties, but at least I have a clean bike with nice new paniers etc and, above all, a Rat Cage! Hurrah! I assembled same this afternoon, with much swearing, straining and also a dash of encouragement from some well-meaning folk** in the chatroom. Made a pig’s ear of it at first before realising I had certain parts back to front and upside down. Once rectified, the whole thing went up quicker than Tim Henman’s odds of winning Wimbledon.
No rats in stock at the pet-shop near me, however. There’s a new litter (or, more accurately, ‘mischief’) of rats on its way, but the little mites are too young to leave home just now. Should be available near the end of July. I could go to another pet-shop, of course. I did phone round all the local pet-shops and one or two have some in stock, so we’ll see which of ‘em are open next Sunday after Go Ape! I’m so excited I could squeak! In fact, I think I will:

*ahem*

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!

Ah, that’s better.

*No, my bike doesn’t wear gloves, silly: I do when I’m riding her. Tchoh.
**For “Well-Meaning Folk” read “Bunch Of Rotten Swine Who Kept Taking the Pi(scuse me, doorbell)”

‹Feels momentarily guilty for not getting Mum & Dad’s pressies›

Fear not! Boaty Simon is still chugging along! Lord Henrington of Thirst is having a very well-earned break to gather his thoughts and recharge his batteries. Wise move.

Simon is now at Stockton Marina, also known as The Blue Lias Marina. OK, it’s only a short trip of about 3 miles, but there are more engine problems to be considered. Well, fixed, more accurately. The oil-filter was put on without a gasket by some dirty rotten cowboy of a mechanic, so that needs attention. I tell you, when Cap’n BlackBeard The Thirst gets hold of the lily-livered land-lubber, he’ll be keel-hauled good an’ hard, and deservedly so! A pox on all cowboy mechanics!
Yarrrrrr!

Ooooh, and a double Hurrah! I have the day off tomorrow! I have one or two little jobs to catch up on, namely buying a nice set of paniers for me Skorp in readiness for my travels up and down the country (Silverstone GP, Cropredy, Brands Hatch, etc) as well as hopefully getting a Rat cage for Lu and Scabbers (no, I’d not forgotten!). Quite how I’ll get a ruddy great Rat cage home I’ve yet to find out. I may have to resort to chatting up the lovely lass wot works the counter at the Rat Shop. I just hope she drives a car.

So the weather is still doing what is generally expected of it in this Sceptic Isle and alternating between “Bloody Marvellous” and “A Bucketful Of Arseholes”.
Thankfully, the engine on the Wey Tamarisk has been doing OK and, in spite of the odd break for to let the engine cool off a bit, the lads have got as far as Napton! Hurrah! They stopped in Marston Doles on Saturday night (which is, apparantly, somewhere in “the middle of pissing nowhere”) and have today fought their way through 9 locks to reach Napton. Henry was certainly sounding more cheerful on the phone tonight. Simon and he were so chuffed to be visited by Ned and JG and to get more text messages from well wishers (especially from the other side of The Pond!). Not only that, but the lads were boarded by a Piratical Wench of the highest order determined to “look after” them: I speak of none other than the Magnificent Trouty! A splendid woman who misses her man enough to travel halfway up the country to make sure he has some clean underwear and other necessary provisions. They’re off to the pub now to meet Ned again and ‘pon the morrow they shall be off up the Grand Union Canal towards Leamington Spa and thence to Birmingham. All being well, they should make good progress. Fingers crossed.