Today we lost our chimney to Bridge 9 on the Caldon Canal. That crucial lack of an inch or two that I didn't recognise until too late made it an expensive day – I dropped a windlass just below the bottom gates of our first lock, and no amount of fishing with our magnet-on-a-string could retrieve it.
Carrying around all you need makes you vulnerable in particular and different ways. We were "on the cut" by 7 this morning, because the poo-tank (excuse my French!) was completely full. We had to get to a pump-out station at Stoke-on-Trent, and hope they would be open. All was well and for a brief while we were the happiest of boaters – full water-tank and empty poo-tank! Didn't last, of course.
There's a certain mind-set that all this develops – have we got what we need for the next 24/48 hours? Can't work out whether this is more or less materialistic than normal. But after 10 miles and 9 locks I'm too tired to worry. And Spooks has just started.
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