Christmas Eve

Dad manages to slope off a bit early from work (midday) and so has time to whizz round doing some last minute errands, shopping, dropping off a huge and almost flavourless (I know, I tried it) pannetoni to Diamond's for use in bread and butter pudding or sherry trifle, buying wild bird food etc.

We get a nice walk round the boatyard where the shipwrights seem to be working right up to the wire. We can hear the sharp buzz of an electric plane, the thump of hammers, the radio music and the banter between the guys coming from the enclosed coccoon of Cambria's hull, fighting with the chilly wind noise as we walk through the quaysides. More guys are working on the Lady Daphne's side frames, their pile of big (10x10"?) baulks of timber on the wharf gradually depleting as they work their way along the side of the barge.

Back home and dry and waiting for poor aul' Mum who works in a job where the customers might need access to her building right up to 5pm tonight plus she, as one in a position where you must lead by example, is obliged to carry on right up to the 17:00 deadline. We are still 30 minutes off that, with Dad poised to go collect her and save her a chilly walk up what is by now a road almost devoid of workers returning home.

Well, good readers, we all here wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy and Prosperous New Year. Enjoy the break and take some time to make a real fuss of your dogs, as well as looking after your humankind.

Merry Christmas
Deefs

Jeepers Creepers

We are out and about all day with 2CV Llew. Dad has him booked to diagnose whether the dynamo on the project 2CV (Mademoiselle) really is failing to send any charge to the battery, or whether this is just bad luck on the part of the shaky hands diagnosis of JJ. Inevitably this mission gets wrapped around with sundry other errands and tasks that distract 2CV Llew from the business in hand.

But heh, it's a lovely warm sunny day, we've nothing killing and Mum is in Ireland, so we chill out. Also, we get to ride about all day in a Jeep Grand Cherokee, which means loads of space in the back to stretch out (all be it smelling strongly of Llew's dog and dog-in-law, Rosie and a springer of whom we cannot currently recall the name).

Also we get into some interesting new places where we are fee to explore nooks, crannies, old caravans, old buildings and so on. First up is the boatyard by the Shipwrights pub where the humans have to move the caravan (pictured) from one place to another. It serves as Llew's Summer house and chill-out place and will be surrounded with potted plants, barbecue equipment and one of those pot-kiln type patio-heaters. It also has a generator, so he gets TV and all the mod cons.

Next up, we Jeep it down to a farm half way between Dover and Folkestone, off the old A20, to look at an old 2CV incomplete restoration project which the owner has contacted Dad about in case we knew anyone who might buy it. Always awake to the possibility of a bargain, Llew is on the trail. Turns out the guy also has in an out-building, a very rusty, French reg'd Ami 8 Estate, so then Dad needs to phone Andy B (being the most likely bloke to want that)

And finally, to the barn where Mmle is stored. She fires up like a dream (better than Dad's "normal" 2CV, in fact) and Llew does his stuff with the meter, but sadly confirms the JJ diagnosis. The dynamo might be generating all sorts of power, but none of it is getting out of the spinning dynamo and up any cables to either the voltage regulator, or the battery.

However, all is not lost, as Llew knows 2 different blokes called Kevin, both of whom happen to be experts in the old electrics of old cars, like Mmle's 6 volt 1961 set up. He is hopeful that one of these Kevins will be able to sort her out in time for her brave intrepid mission in May to La Chapelle d'Armentieres.

Hope you, too had a good weekend

Deefer

Shipwrights and Shipwrights

A beautiful blue skied warm Spring day. We get Dad up at 07:30 but we're in a kind of moochy mood, and none of us press Dad for a walk first thing. Very relaxing - leisurely breakfast and plenty of time to read the papers.

It's a volunteer day though, down at the barge, and Dad is wielding a paintbrush, painting the inside of the shipwrights' Apprentices Workshop. As well as restoring Cambria as a vessel, the Trust is using the opportunity to put half a dozen apprentices through a wooden-ships ship-wrighting apprentice-ship (probably too many "ships" in one sentence there....). It's an important part of getting your Lottery grant, the Education side.

There is talk of us then being able to link up with 2CV Llew on a mission out to Blean, to sort the electrics on Mademoiselle, which is good for us because Llew just might be round at his caravan near the Shipwrights pub, which means we get a nice walk along the creek bank looking at the boats coming and going and meeting a very smart pair of dachshunds - very glossy!

The Mmle plan, though, comes to nought. Llew can not be found and isn't answering his phone, so we head home. There's then another walk for H and me, over to Diamond's where-at Mum has been helping to wrestle the late lamented Denis's garden back from the brink of becoming an overgrown wilderness. The ladies have been working hard in the warm sun, and are all but collapsing by the time we arrive.

Chill out, you humans
Dogs know how to do these warm weekends.........

Deefer

Sounds Promising

Well - it was still lashing down with rain at lunchtime, but we were all going stir-crazy in here, so Dad put on some suitable rainproofing and we went out anyway, all down round the boatyard loop to check up on the barge, Cambria

The gale was still a-blowing so the wind was screeching through the rigging of the boats, and slap-slapping the halyards and pulley blocks against the masts with that unique noise that can only be a boatyard full of aluminium masted boats

Down at Cambria it all looked promising - there were sounds of heavy hammering coming from the depths of the lighter, and occasional shouts. The car and trucks we know to be those of the Master Shipwright were parked there, and there were two big braziers, one an oil drum, another a rivetted sheet metal water tank burning vigorously, well stocked with size-able chunks of old boat timbers. We didn't want to disturb them, so we went on our way, happy to know they are cracking on a-pace.

By the time we got back indoors we were like 4 drowned rats, so Dad pulled out a wad of dog-towels and we all got rubbed dry. We love that! We end up battling with the towels that get wrapped all around out faces and bodies, and even racing from room to room and on and off the sofa, festooned with damp towels.

Now we're all tired out, and crashed out various places about the house steaming gently and probably stinking of damp rug. It's a dog thing!

Deefer