cockle bread

Halcyon days, now wars are ending
You shall find where'er you sail
Tritons all the while attending
With a kind and gentle Kale.

A bit of Purcell there, from the Tempest, lightly adapted to suit the leaf of Cavolo Nero that went by in the morning. I always found the idea of a kind and gentl gale amusing, especially when listening to this tune as we butted through just such a gale in the Western Approaches or indeed Biscay.

Over on the canal facebook group there was alarm and consternation from one poster who saw some cauliflower leaves float by. Fair play, who likes cauliflower at the best of times?

Down here on the West End we get a better class of vegetable in the rich Minestrone of the canal. It turned out that a neighbour was shaking a slug off this particular stalk and inadvertently dropped the whole thing into the canal.

Breadmaking is of course de rigeur in these lockdown days, and today I divided the dough into two and added mixed fruit into one half. I dusted them with rice flour to stop them sticking too much. The result was really rather good, even if it did look a bit like an arse.

Out and about with the volunteers, delivering food parcels and stuff. 

Observe Blake's Proverb of Hell on the side of the boat there. 

Later, a quick dash to the Wharf to bandage up someone's nasty gash (they slipped on the side of the boat). 

I put my Marigold gloves on, and my Darth Vader respirator. "There's no need for that", said the patient; "I've not got the bug".

"It's to protect you from me" I said; "You don't know where I've been"

Emerging back onto the towpath I see two friends sitting outside their boat enjoying an evening beer. Mr and Mrs Thornproof have paused in their walk to stand looking angry and outraged at this flagrant display of Fun. Unfortunately, the display was only observed by me. Hopefully they will have gone home to spend an agreeable evening write angry letters to the Daily Mail, and best of luck with that.