Extract from Saturday, 28th November, 1981:
Three Dogs in a Boat
(Not to mention the Men)
George persuaded Harris & I to accompany him on his pleasure cruiser* this afternoon. What chaos!
(*In reality a very small dinghy - Ed)Vicci, having never been in a boat before, leapt into the river as soon as George was aboard. So we had to have a wet dog in the boat with us.
No sooner had we got them all in than Max attempted to leap ashore, missed, and then there were two wet dogs.
After we had chugged down the river for a while, George turned sharply (as is his wont) and Minnie, who insisted on perching athwart the gunwale, immediately fell in. "Dog overboard!" I cried. George was unable to steer well enough to rescue her, and the bank sides were too high for her to scramble out. So I had to leap ashore and run back down the bank to collect her.
I was the only one suitably dressed, in sea boots, a reefer jacket and a red woolly cap.
"Whatever have you got on your head?" asked Harris.
"It's a Breton Fisherman's hat," I replied.
"But it has 'Canada' written on it," he protested.
"Ah, this is the sort Breton Fishermen wear when they go skiing in Canada!"
Extract from Sunday, 29th November, 1981:
LH found a posh land drain(?) which he claimed was for his wife's gardening activities. Rumour has it however that he is having it fitted to redirect his cigar smoke.
Extract from Sunday, 6th December, 1981:
L.H. regaled us with the tale of how he sold his wife's Mini to a gypsy. L.H. asked £200, and the gypsy offered £120. I would not like to say that he drives a hard bargain, but, after a long haggle, he parted with it for one hundred and seventy four pounds and thirty seven pence, plus a basket of clothes pegs.
Extract from Sunday, 13th December, 1981:
A very cold, snowy day. G. & H. had planned to be up the Creake, but were prevented by the adverse conditions.
With M 2 we drove out to Croyland and walked the Fodderlots. The river was frozen but George insisted that it was unsafe for Vicci. This was despite me tossing a huge caber out on to the ice, which proved to be one-and-a-half inches (37 mm) thick.
Harris insisted that we turn back at the pumping station, though I felt we could have gone much further. We dawdled back, playing "curling" with sticks and arrived on time. Otherwise we should have been early. Retired to the Abbey Hostelry, where Max tried to bite a customer. (Later he did!)
Continual arguments on this more than bracing morning. Mostly about the safety of the ice but punctuated by rude comments abut LH's obsession for arriving at the pub early. Swans coming in to land and taking off from the ice provided some diversion from the walking - quite a comical sight, how ungainly they are on their feet (the swans as well!)
Extract from Monday, 28th December, 1981:
We drove to Barnack Bridge and walked to Stamford Mill, where George said, "I wonder what it's like to live in a mill?"
"Very nice," I replied. "When you come home too drunk to climb the stairs, your wife can haul you into bed with the hoist."
