Hooked on giving therapy, income and joy

Life alternates for us these days between a static floating existence at point A and frenetic activity before returning to point A. It seems perhaps how we used to live in the years before we moved afloat. It feels like living for a while with more gentle sunsets than electrifying sunrises.

Solstice sunset




Family needs mean that since March we’ve been living this strange lifestyle, frenetic activity being the order of the day when brother-in-law rides into town! Last time he arrived, we hared off to Liverpool with the boat. This time his visit enabled us to trade at the famed Folk and Boat [FAB] Festival in Middlewich, move the boat for part of the week taking  in part of another canal, and make a dash to the East Midlands to catch up with our delightful daughters and ever-growing grandson.



FAB for us lived up to its name thanks to the generosity of boating family the Donnelly’s at Middlewich Wharf. They not only run boat services from the wharf including a dry dock and its associated services, but also a holiday company, Floating Holidays, that gives holiday makers a luxurious chance to enjoy the glories of the inland waterways, those glories we are fortunate to enjoy almost daily when we can move.



We were able to trade without the boat, which we didn’t have time to move to Middlewich but with advantage of being a land based stall under the Donnelly’s historic wharf canopy which kept us and our stock dry when the rain came – which it did being UK festival tradition! I’m sure this weekend when we are aiming to trade from the boat at Pennington Flash on the Leeds & Liverpool Canal today (Saturday), we will be enviously thinking back to that spacious soaring canopy if an unexpected shower arrives.



Selling items you have made, have poured your love into, is a psychological challenge. It can be uplifting and terrifying in equal measure. It isn’t like delivering a professional service for which you’ve been qualified over time, although as an artisan crafter you are producing items due to skills which you’ve been honing for equally long very often.



It is the difference we all make at times between fast food and home cooking, an original artwork or a mass produced poster. There are occasions and budgets for both at times in many of our lives.




As a crafter, it is nerve wracking the first time you put your work on show with a price tag. There’s the price tag dilemma – charge what it has cost in materials and labour and maybe people won’t pay the price, they may think it too expensive, too costly compared to a mass produced equivalent, and there’s always the thought that you want to sell so should you reduce the price. The balance of having had fun during the making, and the therapy of making itself – should those reduce the price of the finished item? In our case there’s also the space equation- so many makes in such a small space reduce the space we have available for living! I’m aware that while the Skipper’s been away on caring duties, I’ve been making, and making and making! At times every surface has been adorned with projects in progress, sometimes with a dog buried beneath!




So sell we need to, but should that be at any cost? There is that fear of what people will think of your work. What you’ve laboured over at home in private suddenly seeing the light of day and the glare of public scrutiny. Will people like it? Will they like it enough to buy it?

Bags are proving popular in all shapes and sizes!




I know from trading that people do like what I produce, that people will buy, but I also know that recently the conversations with people have been very different, very honest. People openly say they’d love to buy whatever it is they are looking at, but they can’t afford it although they recognise it is worth the price, or they say that they’d love it but they have to balance that expenditure against the bills, or the need for something else. It becomes an either or for many.

Inexpensive items to bring joy particularly to children have been a delight



These conversations have given me ideas to create smaller, more inexpensive craft items, but also the idea which I launched at Middlewich to create kits enabling people to have the fun and therapeutic opportunity to make their own items. That proved hugely popular and every crochet kit I had put together complete with instructions, hooks, yarn etc., went away in new crafters’ hands. Some asked for a lesson to get them started which I was delighted to give, and we enjoyed chats and laughs together in the process.



Listening to customers talk about the joy they expect to get in mastering a new skill, or reinvigorating an old hobby has inspired me to give people more opportunities to make things for themselves. I’m now working on some prototypes of new kits with knitting and crochet, that we can stock and enable people to enjoy developing their own skills, testing out and writing instructions as I go.



It is lovely to be able to share not only the items I have made but also the joy of making. If you’ve any ideas of items you’d like to learn to make just let me know so I can sort instructions, equipment and make examples. Producing something in response to customers’s conversations and suggestions is very different from creating something you feel you want to make and then hoping you can find a buyer who would like to have it. It appears that to survive emotionally and economically a balance of both is the solution.



A mix of selling platforms – in person and online also seems to be a way of coping with the changeable British weather that has reduced our trading days this year so far. 

Over the next few months I aim to build the Moving Crafts’ Instagram page to incorporate more items for sale which should also help when weather makes trading in person from the boat difficult. Customers can buy in comfort too which is always a bonus! Do join us there if you can’t get to us in person and let us know if there’s something you’d like made for you, or a kit for you or a friend to make something.

Just one thing – a late arrangement of learning

The sadly suddenly late Dr Michael Mosley in his recent series just one thing looked at the value of learning a new skill.

Researchers from Herriot Watt University said activities that involve a combination of physical, mental, and social elements seem to be particularly beneficial. So they advised finding something that fits you as an individual.

Tiller itch as a continuous cruiser is an unpleasant thing to encounter, one of the strangest things being that we’ve become so used to being together most of the day on most days,  and activities that distract us from being apart and being static are becoming invaluable. For me perhaps I’m the one with less to distract me 24/7 or perhaps I’m the one who demands more distraction. I have been enthusiastically crafting, boxes of stock building up on the boat ready for this weekend’s FAB Festival (Folk and Boat) at Middlewich. But there is a need for more diversion, perhaps more structure, to replace the regular movement of boat and location. 

I’ve always enjoyed learning for learning’s sake. The discovery of new skills as a focus for the mind, the body and the opportunity to do that in person, meeting new people with new outlooks, new ideas seems to offer much to invigorate and inspire. But I know that for me, learning needs to have a purpose, a motivating reason to engage, to have relevance to my life.

At the moment the family focus is on our younger daughter’s wedding next month. I’ve just spent months very happily making her veil, embellishing it with pearls and embroidery. Now that’s over I’m turning my thoughts to wedding flowers. I was thrilled to be asked by her to help with these although my own mother’s somewhat scathing comment about my total inability to create stunning flower arrangements as she definitely could, rather alarmingly keeps running through my mind…

I’ve researched broken arches (not something that needs a podiatrist), bouquets, buttonholes, table decorations, and practiced with locally sourced foliage and flowers. But still, I feel a lack of confidence. 

Imagine my delight when I discovered (was this Meta overhearing my conversations?) a local college running a short floristry course. Six weeks of wedding floristry were contained in the course description (yes, I as a student did actually read the course description…and assessment!) Something as an academic I always doubted happened normally. Within minutes I’d clicked, paid, and apparently enrolled. Suddenly, inverting just a couple of hours a week seemed of immense value and was opening new possibilities. The final assessment would be the week before The Wedding, although, to be honest, my final assessment in my head will be the wedding itself.

I had an email back with my student id and email. Result. I logged in. My timetable was blank although my Course Description clearly showed Wedding Floristry AC082-CLPL and my payment was both accepted and registered. I prepared to arrive just 3 days later on the Tuesday morning at 10am as indicated. 

The following day brought a phone call. Not enough people had enrolled for Wedding Floristry, would I accept Celebration Floristry instead? Same cost, but now Wednesday 1-3pm instead of Tuesdays 10-12. Ah did I realise there had never been a Tuesday course? Some mistake, surely, as they had only ever intended running on a Wednesday morning, but now weren’t doing that. Where had I got the idea of a Tuesday morning from? Only from course publicity.

Still, I’d enrolled on something, and sure enough, when I turned up on the Wednesday lunchtime, I was allowed to get a student card after being asked 3 times what I was teaching. (This happens when you look to be long out of your early 20s or teens). This card, even with my now natural hair colour, gets me student discounts I discovered. It also gives me access to – wait for it – the construction building. Of course, where else would you find floristry?

We’re now two weeks in, and I’ve learned an amazing amount, it seems, in an incredibly short space of time. Flower preparation, wiring, making buttonholes, arrangement proportions, a bit of botany and use of the colour wheel, as well as the importance of the 3 Fs – focal, foliage and fillers.  I’ve had (and fortunately passed) my first assessment. 

The expertise of professionals generously given because of their love for their subject and gratefully harnessed by further education is a major plus of our education system. This is particularly true where adult education is concerned.

I’ve also learned how hard it is sitting on hard chairs for two hours; the value of peer learning; how inspiring sharing creative ideas can be; how stimulating it is to do something new with new people with different backgrounds and outlooks to my own; , the importance of rereading the notes you took soon after you took them; and how quickly something can make you think in a different way.

It is remarkable how rapidly you can lose yourself in an activity and forget the outside world for a time. It’s something I intend to keep doing, to look for opportunities to engage with others and learn in a sociable environment as we travel. The 14-day mooring window certainly has the potential to give scope for such opportunities, particularly when waterways loop around a town or city. I know there are brilliant, engaging and challengone online courses but meeting and engaging with people in a course  environment brings a new perspective and insight to an area, a chance to learn about a region, a place, a town, or a city, and its people. Learning in a social environment offers much more than just discovering a new subject, as I’m delightedly finding out. I highly recommend it – I’m enthusiastically buttonholed now as a lifelong learner in face-to-face education!

Prepping for FAB life and student life too!

We are crammed to, above and beyond the gunwhales (“gunnels” if you prefer) this week, as I’m  frantically stock making and collecting ready for FAB next weekend.

Stock everywhere!

FAB, Folk and Boat Festival is an annual shindig in Middlewich, that’s been going since 1990. It brings together the towns long canal history – boats have been transporting salt and coal and other goods along the Trent and Mersey through the town for over 200 years.


Not only do heritage boats form an important part of the festival, but more modern boat traders create a floating market on the towpath, and some, like us and The Hippie Boat won’t be floating this year but static. We are at Middlewich Wharf and The Hippie Boat are on the main event field.


Middlewich is a location familiar to boaters passing through from either the Trent and Mersey or coming across from the Shropshire Union via the Middlewich Branch and Wardle Canal. The Wharf (or top wharf as it’s also known in some guides) stands at the top of the flight of three single locks. Its historic canopy is a beautiful feature over the towpath at this point (and a welcome moment of shelter for those of us walking dogs or rushing with a windlass between the flight and King’s or Wardle Locks.




Middlewich Wharf is now a family-owned business for Samantha and Paul Donnelly. It is their family home and also home to a wide range of services for boaters – diesel, pump out, water, Elsan, laundry and a chandlery plus a dry dock, a brokerage selling boats, but also the base for a fleet of luxurious hire boats – Floating Holidays. It’s an ideal place to start and finish a canal holiday because it allows you so many options in terms of where to travel and what to see – the Four Counties Ring, Cheshire Ring and Llangollen Canal as well as jaunts up the private Bridgewater Canal.



This weekend Middlewich Wharf will also be hosts to a wonderful range of music plus a bar, and we will be running a Moving Crafts stall with our work and also art and music  from the one-and-only Kat On Board. If you’re at FAB come and say hello – we’ll be around from Friday afternoon until close of play on Sunday.



The musical line up at the Wharf is great as you can see, and we can’t wait to be part of this FAB festival again. It really does live up to its name with music at places and pubs across the town, activities for children (and dogs), families and individuals. The floating market wends its way from near Big Lock and this year includes Star Crafts and Embroidery, Beanie Boat with wool and amazing soaps, plus two cheese boats and loads of others currently making their way to Middlewich.



We’re hugely grateful to Middlewich Wharf for hosting us this year, it’s so good to be a part of this vibrant, fun Festival even though we can’t have the boat there. It doesn’t seem so bad being fairly static when such generous friends enable you to get involved in community events. Being static actually seems to be advantageous in some respects. Local to where we are I’ve been fortunate to have items taken for sale by local cafe self, and had the opportunity to get involved in their events.



And now… wait for it… whilst we’re here for a bit, I’ve taken the plunge and enrolled once more as a student! Learn of what and why next week!

Goals and challenges in the slow lane

There are goals in every world – home, career and it turns out inland waterways.


Our home and career goals are clear – go slower and savour moments. Inland waterways goals it appears, can combine both of those and achieve a plaque at the same time.


This week we’ve had a wonderful week away. A week that took us on a historic city trip. A breathtaking scenic journey into the heart of a city’s docklands, and it earned us another location on our Silver Propellor Challenge.



We cruised into the wonderful vibrant city of Liverpool, to a gated mooring in Salthouse Dock. It was a round trip of 84 miles, 2.5 furlongs and 28 locks, 40 moveable bridges (fortunately some were left open) and 6 tunnel trips. We went out and back through the St Nicholas Tunnel (208 yards long) the Cunard Tunnel (108 yards) and the Museum Tunnel (96 yards).


The Tobacco Warehouse


After the Stanley flight of locks we came down into Stanley Dock alongside the Tobacco Warehouse – the largest tobacco warehouse in the world apparently and destined for redevelopment, the Titanic Hotel and the King’s Pipe. The latter is the chimney of a furnace which was used to burn spoiled or seized smuggled tobacco.

The new Everton stadium



Onto Bradley Moore Dock, site of the new Everton stadium, then Collingwood Dock with the Octagonal Clock Tower, from Clarence Dock out along Sid’s Ditch into West Waterloo Dock, Salisbury Dock, Trafalgar Dock, Prince’s Half Tide Dock, Princes’ Dock, Canning Dock, the Albert Dock which now houses the Tate, and finally into our allocated, paid for berth at Salthouse Dock.




En route we had spectacular views of the iconic Liver Building, the new Isle of Man Ferry Terminal, the Mersey, accompanied in part by lapwing and flocks of Shelduck.

Liver Building, one of the city’s Three Graces
The 25ft high 4ft diameter cast iron columns of the Albert Dock warehouse buildings


Salthouse Dock is one of 68 locations across Great Britain chosen as destinations for the Inland Waterways Association’s Silver Propellor Challenge.

The locations are chosen to encourage boaters to explore lesser known or lesser used areas of the waterways and we discovered with some surprise that we’ve already completed at least 6 of the 20 we need to qualify – unfortunately we visited some without knowing about the Challenge and failed to take photos. By the end of this year if we get cruising again in August, we may have managed another 13, so we should be able to apply for our Silver Propellor plaque.


This short foray into Liverpool has reminded us of the value of even a short time travelling the waterways – relaxing, therapeutic and a chance to unwind. If you feel in need of such a break get booking your canal holiday now –  we can recommend Floating Holidays if you want a choice of cruising destinations. You could visit some Silver Propellor locations!

Whatever you choose, we wish you a relaxing, recharging week in inspiring surroundings.

Moored in the heart of Liverpool

Ageing effectively

It’ll come to us all if we are lucky – old age that is. When it does we need to be ready for it, for the change it will bring to us, but also to those we love and who love us.

It’s frustrating, infuriating and exhausting as we have witnessed first hand. Their body refuses to do what those who are aging want it to, or what they feel it should.

This week after 2 months being moored up we are on the move once more – on a jaunt to Liverpool and back. And we are together again. It’s been a time for us to get back together as for the past month the Skipper has been living with his mother (now 93) and Boatdog and I have been living on the boat. A strange, not easy but necessary temporary existence.

Following a series of eye operations his mum needed support and she’s been hugely lucky to have 3 children who have provided that unfailingly. The bulk of that care has fallen on her two sons because of geography  but her daughter flew over from New Zealand for a month.

This 24/7 need for help was a rapid progression from the weekend stay every two months month, then every month or three or two weeks which the Skipper has been doing for the past few years. From wherever we’ve been he’s made his way by bus, train or car to the North West. Our cruising schedule built in the need to be near transport or to have it with us. His brother at that time was a full time carer for his wife although ‘the boys’ shared supporting their mother before that.

The amount of time and effort they have given and continue to give willingly with so much love is immense. I have been in awe of their capacity to put their lives on hold. For their mother, she’s had to relinquish her fiercely held independence for a while, but now as her sight has improved and various aids are helping her regain independence, the next phase for everyone can begin. What that will look like in detail we don’t yet know, but it will allow Mum to regain more control of her life.

For us, as we cruise to Liverpool this week in a determined effort to get on the move again it makes us realise that even just an hour or two cruising on the waterways can reset our lives whatever has or is happening. The calm, the slow movement, the sights of nature all around us – a heron lifting off beside the boat and slowly flying ahead of us down the canal, ducks, coots, moorhens and geese shepherding their youngsters of varying sizes and ages around us, all these bring our lives back into kilter.

This recent need to consider ageing has given us food for thought. We’ve been looking at the boat with new eyes this week. How can we make it more efficient to live in? We have many years to go until we reach our 90s and maybe we won’t be continuous cruisers by then but we are considering ways we could make our boathome easier as we age. Reducing the need to lift a tonne of coal each winter onto the roof and off the roof into the boat as needed being one necessity! A diesel stove would remove that weightlifting but would perhaps necessitate an oven as well.  Maybe we could get rid of gas so we’re not lugging cylinders? That means new batteries – a chance for lithium perhaps, and that would require a new alternator! Gulp all this makes us wonder…maybe (and perhaps I should whisper this) maybe we should change boats? A bigger boat with more space, with central heating and a diesel stove?

We shared locks with a boat that caught our eye earlier in the week so maybe a narrowbeam Dutch barge would be the answer – with a wheelhouse to keep us dry as we cruise in what we are told will be increasingly wet weather… but we’d have to do all the narrow tunnels and narrow canals first or that wheelhouse would be up and down with alarming regularity!

365 Boatdog days

It’s a year since our ‘new’ furry Boatdog came aboard. She is her own character – nothing like her beloved furry predecessor Cola and definitely with a mind of her own.

She spent the first six and a half years of her life as a breeding bitch, producing 4 litters of cockerpoo pups in that time for her breeder. Then last year she came aboard for a totally different way of life, afloat cruising the country. 

Since joining nb Preaux whilst moored in Northamptonshire, she’s become quite a seasoned cruiser in her first year. In her first 12 months aboard together we’ve travelled on the Grand Union, Coventry, Ashby, Trent and Mersey, Bridgewater, Rochdale, Macclesfield, Leeds and Liverpool, Selby, Fossdyke and Stainforth and Keadby Canals. We’ve cruised on the River Aire, the Rufford Arm, the tidal Trent, Aire and Calder and Calder and Hebble Navigations, and descended 50foot to the River Weaver on the Anderson Boatlift, and ascended again (after a quick trip to Northwick to buy milk!). 

There are times when it’s hard to know Boatdog is aboard. She curls herself up small and sleeps in interesting places. If there’s a storm going on or fireworks outside she’s likely to be found hiding in the (dry) shower cubicle – the place she appears to find safest on such situations. 

At all other times water is not her chosen habitat, unlike her predecessor she loathes getting wet. Cola would swim, swim, swim but not his successor. She’s to be found tiptoeing round puddles on the towpath but on the occasions she has fallen in she can swim like an otter with an expression of total disgust! 

Cola in his younger days  but at 15 he was still up for a dip!

Her first plunge came near Wheelock on the Trent and Mersey when she hurtled down the towpath and flung herself onto the back of the boat going so fast she couldn’t stop. Her second dip was a misjudged jump between two boats moored together on the Coventry Canal Because she’s small there’s no large splash to alert us to dog overboard, just a little ‘plop’ and the realisation she’s missing.

She may be small but she can be feisty when she doesn’t get her own way proving a bit of a nuisance to others when they’ve kindly offered to look after her when there were situations she just couldn’t join us at like work, a family funeral or a hen party – sorry Lesley, Jonny and Chris but thanks for putting up with her. She even howls and sulks if left with the Skipper sometimes and often flatly refuses to walk on the lead if she doesn’t feel like it. 

She loves looking at what’s around us, is hugely sociable with dogs, children of all ages, and is particularly friendly to anyone in a wheelchair. As our rear hatch is convex and covers the full width of the boat she doesn’t feel safe sitting up there when we cruise so I’m looking at how we could have a dog bed made which would be shaped so it would be completely stable for her. For the moment she makes do with Cola’s porthole which has now become her view of the world as we travel. 

She’s small enough to fit in the sink for a bath and puts up with my attempts to clip her with immense patience. Every so often I find a groomers and book her in so she looks like a dog again for a bit and not a moth-eaten hearthrug!

She’s not a barker although the other night when a group of youths were banging on the side of the boat she produced a remarkably loud and welcome bark which surprised them, me, and from her expression, her too!

She now understands that cafes and pubs are fun places often with fuss and treats on offer and has dragged me into many an establishment to check it out. Once in, when she’s been made a fuss of and eaten whatever treats are on offer, she’s happy to settle under a chair and go to sleep until we move making her an ideal companion. She is excellent, undemanding company (if she’s near me and not near any of her dislikes). She knows who likes her and who doesn’t, generally staying  away from those who aren’t fans.

She does share the same name as our younger daughter, which can make life confusing at times, but we differentiate by adding ‘furry’ in front when referring to the dog! I wonder sometimes if I should have changed her name – she seems to respond well to ‘biscuit’! 

Dislikes: getting wet, loud noises, squeaky dog toys, fireworks, loud bangs, mud, being out of my sight. 

Likes: hurtling round grassy fields at full speed often going so fast she somersaults, tummy rubs, fish, being groomed, meeting people and dogs and horses, chasing squirrels, sitting so close to the stove she nearly singes, and I’m hugely glad to say her other like seems to be, me. The feeling, I’m glad to say, is mutual. I’m hugely grateful she’s here. Even if I’m just in her life for food, cuddles and walks, I’m grateful she gives me a reason to get up and go on each day.

Fear, fright, lessons and brutality

How’s your week been? Mine’s been a week of uplifting new experiences, valuable lessons, fear and sheer brutality.


I’m one of many people who suffer from acrophobia – a fear of heights. My knees wobble, I feel faint and sick at heights, my heart races, and I get short of breath. School friends still remember me descending the Eiffel Tower from the second floor on my bottom during a school exchange visit. But sometimes what affects me happens when there isn’t much of a height – some bridges across the canal without solid sides can do it.

Additionally I have High Places Phenomenon as identified by Jennifer Hames – a fear that I would jump in front of a train (usually a tube train for me),  jump or fall off a height. According to the researchers this doesn’t stem from a desire to die, but a sensitivity that results in my body reacting to a dangerous situation. The French (a sensitive people) identify this as L’appel du vide – the call of the void. It is a misinterpretation of a self safety signal.


One way to manage the call of the void is to avoid high places. Imagine my ‘delight’ to discover the first activity organised by my elder daughter at my younger daughter’s hen weekend was a high ropes course. Believe me – I’ve discovered that maternal determination not to let down your children can be empowering!

Amid the tree tops wobbling well but up there


There were moments of wobble, of forgetting to breathe, of shaking so much I couldn’t move my connection to the continuous belay system giving me security all the way round. But those moments reduced as I shakily worked my way round, supported by shouted encouragement from many of the hen squad. It made me reflect that we can overcome much if we have the right equipment but much more importantly the right motivation and support on the way.  The many zip line sections around the course, each incrementally higher than the last brought by far the worst moments but also made me realise that my HPP is never going to be realised. Faced with a sheer drop before each zip wire I froze – solid as a rock however wobbly my knees. Hurling myself off actually took a Herculean effort and closed eyes

.
The instructors walked below, never interfering but also encouraging and giving clear advice as to how we could overcome issues from fears to managing some of the obstacles we encountered. Their approach empowered us all to work out problems, overcome obstacles and  build our confidence.


So I learned much – about HPP, about overcoming fears, tough love from instructors and about the exhilaration of success. I also learned that fear makes you forget any concerns about how you may look in a high ropes harness which is tightened around the bits/ or should that be butts (!) which many of us would rather not have squeezed into focus. I can’t wait for the next challenge – the next chance to push myself out of my comfort zone.


The remainder of the weekend was a happy hedonistic blur of indulgent hot tubs, cocktail courses, excellent food and laughter.


Back at the boat, life suddenly seemed very quiet, very slow and very peaceful despite a battle to change the gas bottle! The last time we changed it was Christmas Day, so that’s not bad!

On the peace of the towpath I made it back to the final graduation run of my latest return to C25k with glee. But within days the brutality surrounding this floating life was thrown into stark relief. A roe deer who fell into the canal above the marina nearby drowned, and its bloated body floated near to the boat. CRT organised to get the poor animal’s corpse removed from the water, and said this had been the third roe deer to perish in the Leeds Liverpool Canal in these past three months.



That was an unfortunate accident, but nature itself is brutal. Since I’ve been back this week a bully swan has killed a Canada goose gosling who got too near to his barren partner’s nest. For five years he has defended her, for five years she’s made a nest, for five years she’ s laid eggs and sat on them without any cygnets appearing. I’m watching the remaining goslings carefully but last night the original four were down to just two. How many there will be tomorrow remains to be seen. It’s not all sweetness and light out here in paradise.

Taking stock with a floating business

It takes determination, hard work, and ingenuity to run a successful business. Mobile catering businesses, as we know, come in all shapes, sizes, formats, cuisines, and types. In floating terms we’ve encountered cafes, coffee, pizza, ice cream, and fudge boats, to name but a few. This week I’ve been learning firsthand the ins and outs of the consumables it takes to run a mobile catering business from a narrowboat.

On any boat, space is at a premium. Unlike a bricks and mortar establishment, you can’t store stock easily. That means being really focused on what you need and buying to sell. We’ve been moored next to The Slush Boat run by Mark and The Spud Boat run by Steve and Jo.



Steve and Jo, when we first met them some years ago, were setting up a doughnut operation on their boat, but to produce and cook a successful doughnut the equipment needs to be totally level and that isn’t always the case on a moored boat. After months of persevering, they sold the equipment and bought another boat, which they equipped from scratch to serve Spuddies. They also run a second business aboard – The Laundry Boat, offering service washes mainly to boaters. This is proving particularly popular in the winter, and they’re aiming to expand to offer a dog bed/rug wash n dry service too.



This week I’ve had a car and been glad to help my fellow traders, with transport support collecting stock from the cash and carry.

These are businesses whose sole means of transport are their legs or their boats. They don’t keep a car. That means factoring in the often considerable time it will take to cruise or walk to where they need to stock up and to trade. If walking, then you need a trolley and backpacks to enable you to maximise each journey. Sometimes that may be several miles, laden with heavy goods. There are other options like deliveries to near the boat or a taxi, but those costs need to be factored into any profits they subsequently make.


Like any business, it pays to buy in bulk or as much bulk as you can. The limits are space on the boat and the capacity to carry what they buy the distance from wherever they are buying to where they are moored. Often this means moving the boats as near as possible to the cash and carry or supermarkets as they can, but that can risk losing what could be a prime location for trading, so it is a delicate juggling act. If there are two traders who know each other well,  one may stay on the mooring whilst the other moves a boat to near the shops.

In Mark’s case, he needs slush syrups, cans of drink, ice cream, toppings, and snacks. For Spuddies, they need…spuds (boxes or sacks of them), toppings of a different kind ranging from butter to beans in large quantities, chilli and curry, and loads of cheese. Jo likes a grated mix of mozzarella combined with cheddar mix  for melty deliciousness.

😋 I highly recommend chilli and cheese

Together, this week, we did the cash and carry, and we did the supermarkets with the car. It still meant though that everything they bought, every box of cans or spuds had to be carried from the car up a path, up the steep steps of a footbridge, over the bridge and down the other side before being transported along the towpath to the boats. Not for them the luxury afforded to bricks and mortar businesses who just whizz to a shop, buy what they need plus some extras to see if they sell!



Mark, bless him, also lugged me a bag of coal onto the boat. I’m hoping that will mean we’re now into a heatwave, having bought yet another bag of fuel for the stove! I thought the last one would be the final one, but the evenings are still pretty chilly.

This Bank Holiday weekend if you’re in the Greater Manchester area, treat yourself to a visit to the Leeds Liverpool Canal at Pennington Flash and do visit The Slush Boat, and Spuddies – you can be assured of a warm welcome and I can personally guarantee they’re stocked up and ready for you!



Across the country this weekend, there will be floating markets – with foods and all manner of goods for sale. I won’t be trading this weekend (I’m having a new adventure instead) but there are markets at St Richard’s Canal Festival at Droitwich; Norbury Canal Festival at Norbury Wharf; Berkhamsted; Burton on Trent and in London at Little Venice there’s the amazing Inland Waterways Association Canalway Cavalcade. There will also be trading and a chance to enjoy the waterways at other locations – do explore what’s available near you. They all offer unique beautifully made items, a great experience, often brilliant bargains, and a tasty treat or two.

Practicing happiness and koselige

Thanks to my family, I realise I regularly do all four of the things researchers say make us happy.

Take a look to see how you’re doing.

Inspired by my younger daughter Freya and her fitness commitments, including her inspirational London marathon this past week, I actively move for at least 30 minutes a day.

Her London Marathon would have been inspiring enough to run 26.2 miles but to complete the distance through gritted teeth in acute knee pain from mile 14 was an unforgettable lesson in determination, perseverance and commitment ( commitment to her own goals, to those who had sponsored her, and as she knew all those children in her school who were waiting to see her arrive the following week sporting her medal).

I am inspired and encouraged by both my daughters and the way their lives (and figures) reflect their commitment to healthy activity. I’m also grateful for boaty friends who spur me on via social media to regularly get out and waddle to bring on a sweat.

I recognise and am grateful for the healthy lifestyle living afloat with a Boatdog brings. It is easy to move for 30 minutes a day with purpose because of our walks together, trips on foot to find shops, exploring new places, tackling locks – all workouts in their own way.

Ploughing through mud takes extra effort whatever your size

Prioritising connections with family and friends, is something living apart from them all and floating about makes even more important. It also brings huge joy in the way they seek to include us, and indeed how we can include them in our floating lives.

It reminds us that being included and including others in small ways is vital. That can be through conversations, paying someone attention in a conversation, really listening to what someone is saying and not being distracted. Making time for someone is one of the best things we can do, and it means a lot.

We need to make sure that we aren’t just contacting friends and family when things are wrong or troubling us – but contacting them when things are good or just when we want to say hello. Sometimes I recognise I don’t do this enough, often because I feel I will be bothering them, that they have busy lives but it doesn’t have to be a major event, just a quick hello a how are you, I’m thinking of you can mean a lot. Hearing someone’s voice makes a difference to the WhatsApp connection too and I’m always grateful for the sound of a familiar voice.

Sharing time and a shoulder with friends and family at times they need support is important for them and us, for our wellbeing and theirs.


Practising gratitude is something we need to keep practising – whatever our age. It makes us feel good because we are acknowledging someone else’s efforts and making them feel good in the process. It’s a win-win situation for us and them. Genuine gratitude, not platitude, is priceless. Not saying thank you because we feel we should, but because we genuinely mean it. Often, we fail to recognise the lengths people go to for us, let alone acknowledge out loud to them how appreciative we are.

The Pollyanna approach to life – always seeing the good in a situation – can be difficult, even irritating, but counting our blessings is invaluable to keep positive. Recognising and taking time to articulate our gratitude for the roles of others in those blessings is also vital for them and for us.

Spending time with pets – maybe because they are always so glad to see us, so grateful for just a pat, a stroke, and always happy to be with us whatever our moods.  Boatdog doesn’t approve of the early morning run habit – she’s always happy to welcome me home as if I had just won a marathon when all I did was waddle around the towpath or local streets for less than an hour!

Pets teach us much about giving unconditional love.


I would add to the researchers’ list those elements which living a floating life evidences brings happiness. The Norwegians define these as koselige – taking time to make the most of the simple pleasures in life. For me that’s time to watch the light from the water playing on the wooden ceiling, the surprise of a stunning sunset, the soft cushions of the sofa, time together and time on our own, time inside and time outside, and time doing those things that give us pleasure – whatever those may be for each of us reading, crafting, doing the crossword.



So this week, join me in getting happier – enjoy that glorious unconditional sharing time with a pet, show gratitude to others, connect with family and friends, keep your body moving and essential time for koselige.

Give, give up & give time to feel good


This weekend in London,  50,000 of the 500,000 runners who applied will run the 26.2 miles of the London Marathon. It will be the culmination of hundreds of hours of training for each runner, many long, lonely cold, and wet hours through the winter, getting their minds and bodies ready for this moment.

Since it began in 1981, London Marathon runners have raised over £1billion for charities worldwide through their efforts. Most runners and those who generously sponsor them will never meet those who benefit from their fundraising. We often sponsor someone we know, sometimes sponsor in memory of someone we knew, but we rarely do we know those who directly benefit from our philanthropy.

Many runners like our youngest daughter Freya, who we’ll be cheering on, have chosen to use their place to raise money and awareness for the causes they believe in. If you haven’t sponsored anyone in this year’s London Marathon, please consider supporting Young Minds with her.

Fancy supporting Young Minds with Freya?

Others run specifically for a charity, fundraising in return for a place. For two London Marathons, the Skipper ran for Victa, a charity helping sight-impaired youngsters and their families. Last year, I walked/jogged a virtual London Marathon on the towpaths of Northamptonshire for MIND – something I couldn’t have achieved in the day without Freya, Jonny, and the Skipper’s support or without the support of everyone who spurred me on through their generous donations.

We couldn’t be here to support Freya if it wasn’t for Steve’s brother Peter, giving up his chance to hurtle miles round London from support station to support station clutching Fruit Pastilles for our heroine and other runners!

Family – a multigenerational lesson in giving ❤️

He’s giving his time this weekend to share with Steve supporting their 93 year old Mum (who’s given to us all for years in so many ways).  Freya’s given her time for months to prepare, and along with the rest of the family who are heading to London, we’re giving her our loud and unfailing support on her inspirational marathon. We’re also supporting Young Minds through her to continue their vital work with young people and parents.

It’s rewarding to give to those we know, but why is it that giving seems even more rewarding if we have no expectation of repayment or of ever knowing those to whom we give?

John Bunyan was right when he said, “You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.”

Tony Hancock.in The Blood Donor – BBC


This week we’ve both given blood as we regularly do – an armful always seems so little to give when you understand that according to Blood.co.uk just giving up an hour of your time and one donation could save 3 lives.

We hear where our blood has gone, which hospital it’s been sent to, but never know those our gifts have benefited, and that doesn’t matter. It feels like a gift to us to know we’ve made a difference somewhere, sometime, to someone who needs it. Maybe it’s a health bonus for us too – after all blood letting used to be a medical cure for many ills

For years, I couldn’t give blood, I’m so grateful that finally I’ve managed it. Don’t give up if that applies to you, too.

On the subject of a different kind of red stuff , I’ve ended another giving up this week. It seems to me 100 days without an alcohol calls for a celebratory glass of red this weekend! Cheers 🍷!