It was all going too well

For a week or so we have known that something wasn't quite right with one of our most important pieces of equipment on board.  Was it the bowthruster?  The Engine.  The Television?  Nope after repeated uses, when a very nasty smell of burning accompanied the opening of the door we have had to finally accept that the bloody washing machine is kaput.  In this boat it is fitted under our bed and it's a small one. Luckily so or Fi would need and even bigger step ladder to climb in to bed at night.  And guess what?  Small machines are twice the price of normal ones.  Not only that, only two companies make ones that will fit.  And then there is the fun and games of getting one delivered to a place of no fixed floating abode.  Strangely, we are now in Aynho next to our most favouristest pub in the hole world - The Great Western and they have a big car park.  Just as importantly they have a post code that I could give the delivery driver who will hopefully now be able to find us.  So this afternoon I had the fun of solving the other problem - how on earth was I going to get it out?  By cunning use of a tape measure I was able to confirm that there was no way it was going out the rear doors but it might just go through the boat and out the front.  So the result of the struggle was washing machine - nil point, me - dix point.  Its now parked in the bow waiting for the man.  Still one consolation is that my book sales are now so good that a weeks worth will pay for it.  Banbury next and then we will be on canals that are new to us - the adventure just gets more exciting.

This morning at the lovely meadow at Somerton were we stopped yesterday in the torrential rain - what a difference a day makes.