Not the luckiest of years, I admit.

I hesitate to admit this but I seem to have done it again.  Not content with falling off a wall and breaking ribs in April and drilling a hole through my finger in May, last night I tripped over a hole in the towpath and I think I may have broken another rib - a front one this time, which is considerably more bearable.  If you ever decide to break a rib or two, choose the front ones, the back ones are ten times worse.

It would be reasonable of you to question my balance or the brittleness of my bones, but I think I just got unlucky.  Anybody not seeing that hole in the grass and catching a foot in it would have gone a cropper, and as for breaking bones, any 200lb gent (yes, sadly that is my current weight) falling prostate on his chest with a bang would I fear suffer the same fate.

Anyhow I can still function pretty well this time although I won't be pushing, pulling or lifting much for a couple of weeks.  Kath and Peter did the lock wheeling up the Hillmorton flight. I did however steer us for three or four hours cruising today without any trouble.

Not to worry.  Undaunted, I baked us some scones after we moored up for the evening and we had a very naughty cream tea with proper clotted cream.  

Buttermilk scones made by my own fair hand.

Now you get where the 200lb came from :-(

Tomorrow we tootle on in the general direction of Napton ready for an assault on the Folly on Thursday lunchtime then back to Wigrams before taking Peter back to Cambridge in the car.