Sunday, 20 June 2021

the deer that nibbles the buttercup



A roe deer appeared across the water, treading lightly through the long grass of Horse Field, and nibbling delicately at the buttercups. I started filming just as this Shostakovich began on Radio 3, and they seem to go together rather well.

After I posted it up on Twitter, somebody told me that I was most likely mistaken, because the flowers were probably crowfoot, and animals don't eat it because it's not good for them.




Never argue with that sort of person on the internet, says I, not least when you know what you saw and even filmed it, and they saw but evidently did not see the film.

But I did get curious about this 'crowfoot' business, and looked it up. Crowfoot is another name for the meadow buttercup, and derives from the three-pronged leaf's supposed similarity to a crow's foot.

Anyway, I wandered over there early the next morning. The path wanders up the hill in the meandering way that paths do when they're not imposed by a ruler on a map



And closer to, you could see where the grass had been pushed aside and the dew had been brushed off by the passage of the wild creatures in the night.



And in the shadier places there was Bath Asparagus, or Spiked Star of Bethelehem. It is really quite common in this area, the country south of Bath; hence the name. It's not an asparagus but a lily, but is edible and used to be harvested and taken to market in Bath. But it's protected now, although I do know someone who still picks and eats it, the rascal.





Friday, 18 June 2021

replacing the rudder stock bearing on a narrowboat


The rudder was getting very wobbly on Eve; lots of play at the bearing, and graunching when the tiller was swung. So I got the tools out and got stuck in.

Before taking anything off, I put a rope through the hole in the rudder and secured it to the stanchions. Because you really don't want your entire rudder falling down to the bottom of the canal.

Pulling off the swan's neck was hard work; it's secured to the rudder stock by a large bolt, and sits on a tapered shaft. After many years in place, it was reluctant to come off. 

After several attempts at levering, I succeeded by using a bottle jack, pushing against a pry bar secured to the swan neck by heavy chain, like this.



I pumped up the bottle jack till everything was bar tight, then rapped the side of the swan neck with a hammer. And it popped off.

Sometimes there'll be a Woodruff key down there too, but not in this case. In fact, this arrangement is identical to that on my old MZ motorbike clutch, which sat on the end of the crankshaft on a taper just like this.



Before I went any further, I made sure I'd got a replacement bearing to fit in place. I used the information on the cast bearing housing, which told me that it was an FL208. This gave me all the info I needed; otherwise, knowing the stock diameter (this one is 40mm) and the distance between the securing bolt holes, should give you all the info you need.

The bearing is held to the stock by two grub screws. The easy way to take the bearing off is 

remove the securing bolts

clean the shaft above the bearing with emery or a file, and oil it; this makes it easier to take the bearing off when it starts to move

Raise the rudder a little, enough to insert wedges under the housing

Rap the top of the stock with a hammer (I used a copper mallet).

If you're lucky, this should get it moving.

I wasn't lucky, though, and it showed no sign of wanting to go anywhere at all. (In fact, I clouted the top of the stock rather too vigorously, and ended up needing to dress it and the thread inside it, later. )

So I used a disc cutter to slice down the bearing, taking care not to cut into the stock. I also took care to cover over the bolt holes, as they go down into the fuel tank, and I didn't want to blow myself up.





...and then I used a puller to slide the now loose bearing off the shaft.



and there it was, safely off


Next, clean everything up, and push the new bearing into place, having liberally greased it


I also added the plunger that I usually use to unblock the sink, to keep the rain out.



And that was that! 

Wednesday, 26 May 2021

K&A Otters

A couple of weeks ago, early in the morning  I watched an otter catching a fish and carrying it back to its holt, where I guess there were pups to feed. I even filmed it with my phone. It porpoised along, its shiny back looking like that of a little humpback whale, though less humpy. I posted up the film on the boaters' Facebook group, and in among the people saying how nice it was to see, were some miserable comments from the sort of feller who thinks that otters are responsible for all the ills that have befallen our once great nation etc.

This sort of thing is why you shouldn't say where you've seen otters, in case some nerk comes along and kills them.

On the other hand, it makes a fun thing to do with this rather wonderful DIY Bayeux Tapestry generator , of whose existence I was made aware by Karin Celestine, they of Celestine and the Hare.

You may recognise a Big Nod in the direction of Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London. The K&A is of course the Kennet and Avon Canal.







Thursday, 8 April 2021

bimbling around the Vale of Pewsey


I hopped into my neat little Nissan Micra, and popped over to All Cannings. (The old Morris Traveller has finally gone, closing the door on over fifteen years of adventures in it, and many roadside emergency repairs. "Don't you miss it?" people ask. "It was fun," I say, "But now I've got a heater that warms more than just my left knee on a good day...")

Gill, at the village community shop, had asked me to do a picture for them, and we wandered around the village admiring the varied building styles, and meeting the cows at Manor Farm where they produce the milk for the Moo2You vending machines they have in these parts. 

The rooks were busy repairing their nests, and it was too early to tell from their labours whether it is going to be a good summer (nests high in the tree, foretelling balmy days) or a rotten one (nests skulking in lower boughs).

Here's the finished picture, which will presently be available as a tea towel from that village shop, yet another reason to go there. 

It's fine country for a bimble. At the moment there's a good chance you'll see golden plovers flocking; and peewits will probably be nesting presently around Allington. And there's a great egret taken up residence on the canal. There it is, loo, in the picture.

Talking of bimbling, I got a rather excited email from Richard Beard a few days ago: 

Be still my beating heart. Look at us, officially approved by the OED. As flagged by one of my former graduate teachers in Cambridge. What are the chances of anyone ever finding it?


Hooray!!!!


https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/251031

and lo, we are indeed in the OED, and so is my little Traveller. I wonder if the new owner knows of her illustrious literary career?



Saturday, 6 March 2021

a Mystery Owl


A few days ago, Pip, who's moored in Widbrook Woods three miles away upriver, messaged me to ask if I could identify this bird that was calling outside her boat. I couldn't; it sounds sort-of tawny owl-ish, but different to the usual to-whoo..... tut-tuddly-hoo that they do.

Two nights later I heard the very same sound here, around midnight. And posting this recording on Facebook, Liz Brownlee, over in Chew Magna, said she'd heard a similar sound.

So for want of a better ID, it seems to be a call peculiar to tawny owls at this time of year; maybe a courtship thing. 

Saturday, 23 January 2021

the Lundy rabbit's complaint


Who’s this odd bloke puffed up there outside my hole?
I only nipped out for some dandelion, and when I got back
There he was, bold as you like in his black dinner jacket,
Saying “Come in here dressed like that? That won’t do at all!”

The cheek of it! We came over with the Normans, I’ll have you know.
In fact, my people have often dined with royalty.
And now here’s this blow-in, shirt still wet from the sea.
Maybe he’s drunk? He’s got a nose on him like a rainbow.

Ouch.
Nasty nip to it too.
Says they’re only here for the summer season
And then they’ll be off cruising down to Spain, when the puffling’s
Gone away to college. Empty nesters eh, he said, feathers ruffling
Not empty enough if you ask me thought I, with reason,
Thinking of the kit’s old nest down there, my belly fur and hay,
The pong of fishbones and old guano that’ll never go away



...I started off writing an entirely different puffin poem, but there you go, you never know what'll happen when you start writing. Here's more

You often read nice things and stuff in
Books for kids regarding puffins
But sadly there is not a jot
On gannets, or the guillemot

Thursday, 14 January 2021

new map of Genderia


Three years ago Yvonne Aburrow mentioned their survey of the continent of Genderia, demonstrating that it is rather more of a complex landscape than often represented by a binary, a line or spectrum. And I did a hasty map to accompany that work. But we thought it was time to update and improve it, so here's the new version. Yvonne's blog is here.

You won't find the Secret Volcano Base of the Trans Cabal, of course, because it's secret. But there is Transgender-am-Berg, in the Transalpine region across the hills from the happy village of Little Cisgender on the Wold. Upriver are the mountains where the Fierce Femmes hang out, while down in the Queer Archipelago there's all sorts of nonbinary stuff going on. 

You can get a copy of the map in my Etsy shop; it comes in A4 or A3 sizes. Here's the A4. And here's the A3.