Rain stopped play

North of Copper Mill lock at Harefield, 0 miles, 0 locks

It was sunny when I woke up today and I had high hopes for getting to King's Langley, but as I was fitting the new grilles over my cat flap it started raining and shows no signs of stopping. It's quite depressing and brings back horrible memories of the 'day of rain' that flooded the Thames last year and kept me stuck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Oxford for four weeks.

To keep myself cheerful I've done some housework. I've copied all of my movies off my iMac onto the 'movies' drive and put the iMac in a cupboard out of the way. I've polished my ornaments and knick-knacks (not that there are many of them) and even polished the wooden narrowboat that I bought to show Fred at St Pancras Dry Dock what colour I wanted Oothoon painting, Xmas before last.

Round about this time, there was a knock on the hull. Fearing the worst, I opened the front door and there was a smiling Irish woman who was dressed for the summer, sheltering under an umbrella. "I'm lost," she said, "I've come from Uxbridge and I'm trying to get to Rickmansworth." "It's about another two or so miles thataway," I said, pointing upstream. "Ah, thanks. I didn't realise it would be so far or that the weather would be so bad." There was then a brief Q&A about living on a narrowboat, culminating in a question about whether one needed to be "practical" and would it be safe for a single female? Thinking about my neighbours Sandra and Kirsty, I opined that it seemed safe enough and that vandals don't really care what you are when they're attacking. With that she gave a cheery wave and continued on her way.

My friend Paul in Hull has what he refers to as a "scumbalina" tea, from time to time, and I think I'm going to have a scumbalina food day. I've already eaten the tin of Spaghetti Bolognese that Jan and I bought a few weeks ago on the trial run trip (surprisingly good with a bit of parmesan and some freshly milled black pepper) and I'm now eyeing the box of Vesta Chow Mein that Paul brought from Hull when he was down last week. We'd been reminiscing about Vesta meals on and off, and he mentioned that ASDA still sell them, so he brought down the Chow Mein (mainly because I wanted to try the crispy noodles again, which I was convinced were a Vesta invention that had nothing at all to do with Chinese food) and the Paella, which is Paul's favourite. Actually the Paella was surprisingly good--rather like Batchelors Golden Savoury Rice, but with an unfeasably large number of little prawns  and too much salt. I'm expecting to still hate the Chow Mein, so I might hold off having it until I'm truly miserable, in lieu of visiting the Marble Arch McDonald's at midnight. Might have tacos instead.

You'd think the sky would be bored with raining by now, especially as it keeps looking like it'll brighten up any minute, but apparently not.