Post by Telemachus on Jul 13, 2018 22:35:00 GMT
We had a nice day today, surviving Harecastle and escaping onto the Macc. Not too hot today which was good for the Boseley 12. Arriving, we found the locks in our favour and several boats coming down. But blimey, some of the pounds were very low and required water running down to get us between locks. Phew, finally made it to the top after much bumping and crashing on the bottom, and moored for the night. Dinner and a glass of wine ensued. At about 9:30pm Jeff suddenly said it would be a good idea to walk back down the flight to see how the low pounds were faring left to their own devices. Which is not really like Jeff, especially as he had been for a run earlier.
We duly set off and noted that some pounds were fine, others quite low and a couple extremely low with large swathes of mud flats exposed on the offside. The worst was at lock 6. And then we heard the pitiful bleat. A large lamb/ young sheep was buried half way up its body in the slimy black gloop, a few feet from the bank. It was starting to get dark so we couldn’t leave it. We crossed a couple of fences and a field to get round to the offside and said sheep, which made a few pathetic struggling attempts to move that only submerged it further. I could get within a few feet of it on firm ground and even managed to grab the scruff of its neck but there was no way I was going to budge it without getting at least one leg in.
So shoes off, socks off, jeans off. And then I had to put my leg into the slimy black gloop. It went down 1/2 way between knee and hip. Yuk! But I managed to get more purchase on the sheep and in fact grab it under the forelegs to pull it round facing the bank. It was a heavy brute and laden down with black mud!
You can just imagine the papers, “Nicholas Norman aged 61 was found in a public place mud wrestling with a young sheep, his trousers long since removed. He is charged with gross indecency ...” you get the picture.
Anyway, grabbing its nether regions I managed to hook it mostly out whereupon it got all tangled up in the reeds. Jeff, who up to this point had been hanging on to my other arm to prevent me going right in, helped to clear the reeds and finally with a huge bound of energy it was out. It scampered up the bank and with only a briefly-bleated “thank you”, and without offering me free use of any of its orifices, ran off across the field to its mates, who probably wondered what had happened to their sibling/cousin and where this black sheep had come from.
photo or it didn’t happen. Well not being millennials, our first thought was not to video the whole thing, rather it was to rescue the sheep. But Jeff did take an “after” photo.
Hmmmm, so now I have to walk up 6 locks to get back to the boat, in my underpants. Fortunately it was by now pretty dark so what could possibly go wrong!? Washed most of the black gloop off my legs and hands at the waterpoint, then into the shower.
Funny that Jeff had an unusual urge to go walkies, he must be on some psychic wavelength with the sheepies!
Anyway, good deed done and time for bed. If I can’t sleep I can always count ... oh never mind.
We duly set off and noted that some pounds were fine, others quite low and a couple extremely low with large swathes of mud flats exposed on the offside. The worst was at lock 6. And then we heard the pitiful bleat. A large lamb/ young sheep was buried half way up its body in the slimy black gloop, a few feet from the bank. It was starting to get dark so we couldn’t leave it. We crossed a couple of fences and a field to get round to the offside and said sheep, which made a few pathetic struggling attempts to move that only submerged it further. I could get within a few feet of it on firm ground and even managed to grab the scruff of its neck but there was no way I was going to budge it without getting at least one leg in.
So shoes off, socks off, jeans off. And then I had to put my leg into the slimy black gloop. It went down 1/2 way between knee and hip. Yuk! But I managed to get more purchase on the sheep and in fact grab it under the forelegs to pull it round facing the bank. It was a heavy brute and laden down with black mud!
You can just imagine the papers, “Nicholas Norman aged 61 was found in a public place mud wrestling with a young sheep, his trousers long since removed. He is charged with gross indecency ...” you get the picture.
Anyway, grabbing its nether regions I managed to hook it mostly out whereupon it got all tangled up in the reeds. Jeff, who up to this point had been hanging on to my other arm to prevent me going right in, helped to clear the reeds and finally with a huge bound of energy it was out. It scampered up the bank and with only a briefly-bleated “thank you”, and without offering me free use of any of its orifices, ran off across the field to its mates, who probably wondered what had happened to their sibling/cousin and where this black sheep had come from.
photo or it didn’t happen. Well not being millennials, our first thought was not to video the whole thing, rather it was to rescue the sheep. But Jeff did take an “after” photo.
Hmmmm, so now I have to walk up 6 locks to get back to the boat, in my underpants. Fortunately it was by now pretty dark so what could possibly go wrong!? Washed most of the black gloop off my legs and hands at the waterpoint, then into the shower.
Funny that Jeff had an unusual urge to go walkies, he must be on some psychic wavelength with the sheepies!
Anyway, good deed done and time for bed. If I can’t sleep I can always count ... oh never mind.