The Boathouse

No, not Dylan Thomas's writing place at Laugharne, but on the Thames and Severn Canal between Ebley Mill and Stonehouse. This was our intended walk today, for me and GG, and all went well, apart from my pedometer, which got stuck on zero! As a result, it now says I've done 6,000-plus steps whereas I know I've done at least twice as many! I'm trying to get a minimum of 8,000 'on the clock' for seven consecutive days. I'll have to do some disco dancing or cemetery-walking later.

We enjoyed beautiful weather, and encountered many walkers, dog walkers, runners, cyclists and paddleboarders. Also saw a family of coots with their five chicks nesting on the bank. There are information posts at regular intervals to explain the remnants of the canal's industrial past. When we got to the end of the navigable canal, to a small pond-sized body of water called 'the ocean', we stopped for our picnic on a bench. St Cyr's church was to our right, with its castellated tower (no spire) and behind us were the grounds of the splendid Stonehouse court hotel. For some reason, GG refused to go there for a drink. Never mind, there'll be other days. I'm planning a longer-distance canal walk: watch this space!

GG took me home and we looked up some Hamlet quotes for our course, and some other stuff. After she left, I had the brilliant idea of buying a toaster oven instead of replacing the grill element. I have also located the instructions for the microwave grill, so I know where I went wrong last night. I shall now attempt to grill some cheese on toast...

(Four minutes later) I have made a horrendous burnt offering. I think the toaster oven is the way to go. The microwave grill only has one setting: vulcanised. I don't want another kitchen gizmo, but I can't live without the grill, and replacing the element would involve an engineer, and loadsamoney. The bread machine can take a holiday from the kitchen: we haven't used it for a long time. Steve likes sourdough now, and I've had such variable results with gf bread flour that it can't be relied on to produce an edible loaf each time.

And now for something completely different: a return to reading Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out.