Banbury continues to hold us in its vice like grip. We'll have to leave soon before they kick us out. Yesterday, moored oustside the social club I was preparing to put a top coat of paint onto the strip above the starboard gunnel when I was approached by a strange gentleman who seemed to know far too much about me. "Must be one of those unfortunate people who read my blog." thought I, although I had a strong suspicion who it ought to be. Shaking my hand he introcuced himself as Eeyore, well known blogger and skipper of NB Sonflower, once moored in Banbury.
"Hang on," thought I, "this man might be an impostor," for he was far too pleasant and cheerful to go by the name of a notoriously glum donkey. Well I had to take his word for it even though he was suspiciously cheery and welcoming. Anyway he had a nice wife and a pleasant son who had obviously been well brought up cos he was very tall. I look forward to meeting them again.
Then today, Herbie was boarded by a less reputable, but equally welcome rogue, pretending to be our old pal Maffi, but it couldn't have been because he had a smart haircut and his dog Molly wasn't with him. After a cup of tea and a natter I chucked him out as I was ready to do some more painting. The problem was I had forgot to tell the met office and they sent an hour's rain instead.
I was keen to try out my new toy, a palm detail sander on sale at Wickes for a miserly £12.99. Being a miser myself of course I had to get one, and I'm happy to say that it works very well. The front end of Herbie's roof was in a a poor state from when I had foolishly left a bag of coal on it last winter. After the rain stopped I sanded, cleaned and primed a three foot length of the roof, the sat back on my laurels waiting for Kath to come back from a hospital appointment with the good news that tests show that she wasn't really ill at all.
So, to celebrate a successful day we retired to the esteemed ReineDeer Inn for a venison burger and a pint of Hook Norton's extremely wonderful Summer Haze, an absolutely delicious wheat beer that we have only just discovered. Surely a candidate for a Herbie Award come Christmas. The sad news is that it's a seasonal brew and they are not doing any more this year. Trust us to find it when it's too late.
Last evening we visited the diminutive Banbury Odeon, and along with about thirty other culture vultures watched the RSC's live screening from Stratford of Bill Spokeshave's Cymbelline. This is a play I knew nothing about so I read up the plot before going. It was a good job I did, 'cos it has so many twists and turns. If I had to describe it in three words they would be Ridiculously Far Fetched. Anyhow a good time was had by all, and for a change the good people in the play all lived to tell the tale and most of the baddies got killed. Oi'll give it three and a half out of five, with a special mention for the set designer and lighting person and the brilliant comic timing of a couple of the cast. These live Spokeshave shows are fun. You ought to go. Next up is King Lear, not sure I have the stamina for that, a bit of a marathon I think. If I go I might have to take marmite sandwiches.