It's been much cooler today, but we're promised a resumption of summer tomorrow. Sheila steered down the last two locks and along the windy (both senses) pound to Polesworth, where we stopped to get you know what, and then on to Alvecote. No problem getting a mooring on the towpath here. Just as we were relaxing before lunch, who should turn up but Stephen and Jayne on Dolce Far Niente.
We went on board for a natter and a small(ish) libation. Good catching up all round before we separated to get our lunches. They've pressed on towards Atherstone as they're heading for London.
It's been a bit of a day for odd boat names. As we came through Polesworth where Will Power used to moor, thus giving me an earworm for the Gary Puckett and the Union Gap number ("Lady Will Power, it's now or, never to give your love to me…") who should come the other way, right by that mooring, but Young Girl ("Young Girl, get out my mind, my love for you is way out of line, better run girl, you're much too young girl…")
All ruddy day.
/floor
Before that, we'd crossed with Sally Slap Cabbage would you believe. I'd never heard this term before, but Googling revealed that it's gone from a Lincs dialect term for an untidy woman, through being a story book character intended to empower small girls in a Developmental Psych study of gender stereotyping in pre-schoolers to an Urban Slang word for "A female who is clinically retarded in every sense of the word. Has to wear a helmet anywhere she goes."
Isn't language a strange thing?
Tonight, food in the Sammy Barlow, yesss...
No comments:
Post a Comment