On a visit back to Oxford a few weeks ago, I fell off my bike and hurt my arm. An x-ray confirmed a radial head fracture. Thankfully no cast was required, the arm was put in a sling and I was sent on my way. Prognosis: it’ll heal itself in about six weeks, in the meantime just be careful.
Well, we were halfway through our boat journey. The boat was in a marina near Harlow, and we had six weeks to bring her back to Oxford.
Being careful therefore meant that I didn’t (because I couldn’t) open any locks, but I could steer the boat, one-handed. I couldn’t cut my own food, sweep the floor or make the bed. But I could moor a boat. So the tasks were divvied up between Steve and me. He did the locks, I steered the boat, he cooked dinner, I did the washing up.
As luck would have it, we shared the locks down the Lee, the Hertford Union and the Regent canals all the way to Islington with other boaters, so Steve didn’t have to do all the locks himself.
One thing that fell by the wayside because of my arm was my writing. Using a computer was damned uncomfortable, so I resigned myself to the occasional post on various appropriate facebook pages. The arm is better now. Not well, but better. It’s only three weeks since the accident, so I’m not complaining, and here I am, catching up on all that I missed in the last three weeks.
Towpaths and Turnpikes 
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