Pottering

A lazy start on a misty morning has led to a bit of work getting done, but not perhaps quite as much as we'd planned (no change there, then). In point of fact, Sheila has been doing the lion's share of the brain work, as she slogs on doing all the stuff connected with changing over the current account. Sure, the new bank moves all your direct debits (possibly) but it's all the in-payment type stuff to sort out that takes a while. In particular, the NHS Pensions Agency doesn't let you change your bank account details on line "for Data Protection Act reasons". No, it's because you can't be bothered to set up a secure way of doing it.

Meanwhile, I got stuck into sweeping the Squirrel flue, one of those jobs that needs doing from time to time, especially after our episode of burning house coal earlier in the year. The flue wasn't too bad, in the event, but it was still a worthwhile if unavoidably messy exercise. The biggest hassle is putting the Squirrel back together again, fitting the baffles back in the top of the firebox, having removed them to get your actual clean sweep.

We'd planned to wash the boat roof this afternoon (hence the need to get the chimney sweeping out of the  way first) but a cutting easterly wind has continued to blow, so we settled for another perambulation around the marina instead. Sheila's boots are coming on nicely; we plan to walk into Willington tomorrow, so that will be their next test.

Oh yes – odd things seen around the marina number 133. Coming back to the boat yesterday, after our visit to Roger and Janet on Shiraz, a couple got off the boat next door on their way to a wedding or some other fancy do. The young woman was smartly but conventionally dressed; the chap was in full Highland fig, jacket, kilt, sporran, long stockings and brogues. He did look a touch self conscious, so we didn't stop to enquire what was going on.

He might have menaced me with his sgian dubh…

/blur