On the water again

Spent some days commissioning the college database I've been developing. Now we enter the phase reputedly used by Microsoft – let the actual users do the beta-testing! More excuse for me, I think, since this has basically been a one-man project. First indications are that it's going pretty well.

So – back to Erin Mae on Thursday, and then yesterday we started out down the Trent and Mersey for our Tuesday appointment at Mercia Marina to deal with the leaky window. It's been briliant boating weather. Today we got to new territory, running past the winding hole at Rugeley which was the furthest we'd previously been in this direction.

We followed NB Barnaby for a considerable part of this morning, and discovered it can be very useful to have another boat 200 yards in front when negotiating a tricky section. Looking at his behaviour indicated potential hazards – not much traffic today but you can guarantee what there is will be coming at you just as you hit a narrow section right before a bridge on a blind corner. It was especially helpful to have him in front as we went through the rocky, single file section that used to be Armitage tunnel, and has a bend just before the far end. He was able to tell the hire boat coming the other way that we were following, so my best beloved was saved the exercise of walking through ahead.

On to Fradley tonight, a famous junction where the Coventry canal meets the Trent and Mersey. What will we do this evening, now that I've already done a blog post for today? Probably iron out a few database glitches via the internet, and then there's the little matter of the Olympic hockey medals matches, if all this boating hasn't got me in a muddle as to which day it is today.

Home again

What with all the showers it was touch and go to complete the varnishing of Erin Mae's front doors and frames, but in the end we managed it. That was the main target for the last week, in addition to making arrangements with Mercia. So we're well content.

There was so much sport on the radio on the way home, what with the test match as well as the Olympics. Comes from having DAB. In the end I had to turn it off because of the need to concentrate on the heavy traffic. So we've been catching up tonight. Pendleton, team pursuit, Jessica Ennis, Murray, Rebecca Adlington, and those are the ones I already knew about. How much more can a body take! Stopped for coffee on the M40 and had a good chat with a couple coming home from a holiday in the Dales. Hope you find the blog tonight, folks – enjoyed our natter (and hope the coffee spill dried out!).

IT work over the next few days – getting the database live and sorting out any initial issues. Then hopefully back up on Erin Mae towards the end of the week, and some more cruising.

Knots

At Greatwood camp when I was 11 we learnt to tie a round turn and two half-hitches (along with a clove hitch, reef knot, bowline, sheet bend and sheepshank). We were told it was used for mooring boats, because it stayed secure no matter whether the line was tight or slack. I've used it ever since whenever messing around with boats, and taught it to Lewis and Charis when they were on board Erin Mae for a day in June.

Yesterday I noticed Dawn of Great Haywood Marina using a different hitch when we tied up for a pump-out. I'd seen her use it before, but this time I asked her to show me. She said it was used by all the old working boats, so I've been busy rehearsing it (in my mind, at least).

Today I found it on a boating knots website. Unsurprisingly it's called a Lighterman's hitch, though it no doubt has other names as well. Dawn tends to tie it without a complete turn for temporary mooring. Another boater looking on said he always ties it with a complete turn, and that its advantage over the RT2HH is that it doesn't over-tighten under a day of other traffic moving you back and forth.

New skill – good fun. Now to build it into muscle memory.

Couch potato

Dreary weather, too wet for varnishing, no desire to go for a walk, Olympics on. So no exercise in this part of the UK to match that going on elsewhere. Instead, the day's nourishment has happened in a steady stream of uncomplicated episodes, accompanied by rowing, tennis, diving, hockey, more tennis, and women's football still to come.

The hockey always amazes me now. When I started playing, offside involved goalie plus two defenders. Over time, and even since I stopped playing about six years ago, technical developments and being open to rule changes have changed the sport out of all recognition. Apart from the skills set made possible by astroturf, three things stand out – abolishing the offside rule, allowing shielding of the ball when in possession, and the recent change to allow you to hit the ball to yourself when bringing the ball back into play, taking a corner or a free hit. Whoever thought of that one is a genius, and I wish they'd done it when I was playing. The speed and intricacy of both men's and women's games make it fantastic viewing.

It's been a thoroughly sporting day, in spite of the score: Calories ingested – considerable, Calories expended – 0.

Parental pride

One of the more human touches of the presentation of the Olympics is when parents of athletes are shown or interviewed. Rebecca Adlington's come immediately to mind. Of course, it's hard for the TV viewer to distinguish between parents who have sacrificed and encouraged, and those who've been pushy and as ambitious for themselves as for their kids. But with people like Rebecca, you get the impression (only that, no scientific study here) that she's celebrated and valued by her community as much for the person she is as for her medals. That's a parent's dilemma – how to encourage and congratulate a result without sending the message that it's the success you value in your offspring, rather than who they are.

My best beloved and I are very proud parents – our youngest (at 33) has just graduated with a high 1st class degree in Design and Technology from Goldsmith's College (part of London University), which carries a teaching qualification with it. This he achieved while continuing to run his function band full-time, and in spite of a measure of dyslexia. He starts teaching in September at Archbishop Tenison's school near the Oval. But, as with all three of them, in the end it's the person he is that counts. And of all three of them, we are very proud.

Hog roast

It's apparently an annual event, and it seemed half the village and most of the marina were there. Formula is simple: put up a marquee and hire a band; cook a pig; lay on baps, apple sauce, stuffing; get in some kegs of beer and a means of dispensing them (and alternatives for those who prefer something else). Hope for a dry evening.

In the event, even given the size of the crowd, almost all of the boaters we know were elsewhere, and we spent most of the time chatting with Mike and Mo and their friend Jude. Mike and I continued our afternoon conversation about music, teaching, travel, politics, social history, boating, families… As you do. All good fun.

We did get a fine evening. And the varnish on Erin Mae's doors continued to dry.

NanoWeb

Mike (NB The Great Escape) and I finally had a bit of a jam session this afternoon, which included getting his Egyptian oud out for a while. We've come to where we are musically by totally different routes, and that always creates interest both in the music and the chat. I'd had to put new strings on my guitar earlier, an Elixir NanoWeb set I bought from Eric at Guitar and Son in Stafford. Cheaper on the internet, but I needed them in a hurry and got a nice warm glow from patronising a local business.

NanoWeb sounds like something Tim Berners-Lee might have invented (intriguing to see him included in the list of Olympic things-to-celebrate last night), or what one of Charlotte's babies might have spun, or the result of my natural networking abilities. Actually it's just a special coating on the string. The guitar sounds re-juvenated. Still a pity about the voice.