Sainsburys, Nothingham

The decision was made early on to stay put for the day, a day with my foot up would be wise. Yes I can take Oleanna through the locks whilst Mick works them, but when we reach the river I’m not confident that I’ll be able to get a rope around a cleat on a pontoon whilst I hobble around. Most of the locks, we are hoping, will have keepers on duty on the Trent. But at Meadow Lane it’s very unlikely, we’ve certainly never seen one there.

So it was a day of listening to a phone ringing across the way, boats passing, a touch of work and hearing from our lodgers that the new sim card we sent them had deteriorated over the weekend to worse than the previous one! Fiber is on the cards but won’t be installed for at least another month!

Mick cooked us a breakfast, I’m sure there must have been some vitamin C in there somewhere! Then we enjoyed sitting in the shade until the sun came overhead late afternoon.

Mick went to check the mooring sign which says 48 hours 130m to each side. We were definitely within that. A chap sat on the grass nearby struck up a conversation with Mick, he’d been to rescue a boat that had been stolen and had all it’s windows smashed. The chap said he’d lived in Nottingham for five years and never noticed the 48 hour mooring sign. I suspect he’d never looked for it! We should have moved up, but overstaying for a day because of a broken toe, we’d chance it.

Seven requests have come in for a pair of socks. The needles came out, yarns auditioned, 24 stitches cast on, increased to 52. The tv went on, what film could I watch? When I broke my ankle I worked my way through a box set of Alfred Hitchcock films, today I’d make do with Film 4. Sid James and Hatty Jacques, can you guess the film? Very much of it’s time, 1963.

Then followed a WW2 film with Frank Sinatra and Trevor Howard, Von Ryan’s Express. Mick joined me to watch this one. Prisoners of war, a train chase, explosions, planes, vicars impersonating German officers, also very much of it’s time 1965.

Time for a shower. We’d been told to replace the strapping on my toes after a shower. Mick carefully cut away the existing tape, ow! Only a slight amount of bruising, why do I never get dramatic bruises? I got to see the position of my toe for the first time since it had been adjusted. Not quite how it used to be, but it certainly was better.

By the end of the day I’d knitted a hole sock, my bum was aching, a pillow required for long sits on our sofa, Mick had learnt how to make pork stroganoff (a version of). I’d kept an eye on my toes whilst hobbling about, apart from one time! And Tilly spent the day either being a long cat or shouting at the back doors!

0 locks, 0 miles, 1 cooked breakfast, 1 recorded parcel not recognised! size 6 vibrant, 1 Sid, 1 Hatty, 1 Frank, 1 Trevor, 1 train chase to Switzerland, 1 sock, 1 painful toe tap.