Dave and I should have been up on Longstone Edge this morning at dawn, singing
“To welcome in the summer, to welcome in the May-o!”
like we usually do, but we didn’t wake up till a quarter past five: too late. We had a bit of sleep to catch up on. I don’t know if you’ve ever slept on a boat, but when I come back home I always feel as if the bed is bobbing about on water.
The holiday was great (gave me respite from my exploding brain) and being home is great, too. I am sitting in bed as I write this, and sunshine is streaming in through the mucky windows onto the patchwork quilt. Outside, the wind is rustling the new green leaves on the row of lime trees opposite, and the copper beeches in the garden. Through the side window I can see may blossom and cotoneaster blossom. This is a beautiful place to come home to after a holiday. It never feels like a let down.
We’ve been round the Avon ring, made up of the Worcester and Birmingham canal, the Stratford canal, the river Avon and the river Severn, and in case you’re interested, we went through 132 locks, all but two operated manually by us and our two friends on the boat. May is my favourite month, and combining it with boating in a week of sustained sunshine was pretty awesome.
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