With the local wildlife on its second or even third brood, large family groups of mallards, swans and moorhens are common, they often follow the boat, while opening up the side-hatch is usually the prompt for a bunch to appear out of nowhere demanding food, more in hope than expectation.

While SWMBO was driving along the Grand Union this morning, I was sitting quietly in the front deck area in the hot sunshine, and without thinking draped my arm over the side. This was too much temptation for a passing/following mallard who, mistaking my middle finger for her morning croissant, did her best to swallow it. Don’t know who was more surprised…

Savaged to death by a lady duck: not the epitaph I had in mind.

Moored up just outside Braunston for the day. There were four fields opposite the boat: the near one (“South”), the far one (“North”) – you can just make out the fence, and two (“East” and “West”) just out of shot to the left and the right of the picture. The fields show particularly fine  remains of the old “ridge and furrow” cultivation system.

As evening drew on, (with far more sheep than in the picture) all the sheep in the South field wandered determinedly  into the East field over the space of a few minutes, followed by those in the North field. With no sign of sheep dogs or humans, it looked as though they were programmed to go and eat or something at a particular time or signal. But five minutes later (too quick for nosh) they all wandered back into the North and South fields (far to quickly to have eaten); another five minutes and they all – to a sheep – wandered into the East field, where they remained for the rest of the evening. Strange beasts, sheep.

Oh. There were a pair of Peregrine Falcons perched on the church steeple, too.

A sunny Saturday spent hooked up to electricity and water in Great Haywood Marina catching up on the washing and drying, while someone visited the large Canal Side Farm shop adjacent, and someone else supervised the engine maintenance requirements (oil and filter change now it’s run in a bit). Guess who did what.

The quiet night weather-wise  saw a large hot-air balloon drifting very slowly over the marina in the evening, and another coming into land just across the railway line at 08:30 Sunday morning: there’s an outfit based at nearby Shugborough Hall, and it was pretty much perfect weather for it. Don’t see nearly so many balloons these days, I guess the foot and mouth restrictions some years back made it all too difficult for many operators.

Wandering further down the Trent & Mersey Canal on Sunday afternoon,  after passing the delights of Rugeley power station and the Armitage Shanks toilet factory (bidets are clearly in at the moment) and getting near Kings Bromley, we both saw a weasel-y animal rearing up out  of the canal-side greenery before bolting across the towpath into the woods. First time ever we’ve seen anything like that on a canal (though I guess there’s no reason why we shouldn’t). Eschewing the old joke, Google suggests the black-tip on the tail means it was a stoat. Definitely a first.

Normally reluctant to leave the boat during broad daylight, and not entirely happy in a busy marina with people traipsing through the boat fixing things, Sir expressed his approval of our quiet, remote and sunny moorings near Kings Bromley by diving off immediately into the bushes and returning two minutes later with a small rodent which he ceremoniously discombobulated on our newly cleaned floor. Good job he didn’t find a stoat…