Moored

We set off this morning from Bank Newton (the picture shows us moored there) towards East Marton, intending to turn back before the Three Green Ber Field locks. Unfortunately we missed the turning point and had to go up them after all (and then back down again), turning just before Barnoldswick instead. We finally moored up between the locks at Gargreave to meet Beck's brother and his family (who live in that neck of the woods) only slightly later than planned for a very nice pub meal at the Mason's Arms. Only a couple of days without music and I find myself humming (and just occasionally singing out loud at the tiller) inappropriate songs (not rude, that is, just not particularly apposite): today's was 'Philadelphia' by much-missed Sheffield indie-popsters Standard Fare.