Weeping willow

Last summer Geri and I took her girls out on a boat at Fritton Lake. Both Geri and Emily  (8) were a bit dubious but Harriet (12) and I convinced them it would be fine. The man hiring the boats reassured all and said he would come and rescue us if we got stuck.

Off we set, Geri and Harriet on one side and Emily and I on the other and, despite some dyspraxia, we actually didn’t do to bad. We had made it out to the middle of the lake and upstream a bit when I thought it would be an adventure to paddle over to a weeping willow and see what was under it. Off we headed and again achieved the task well …. until we went to leave the confines of the tree. We paddled and rowed and Geri shouted “Forwards. Forwards” but we did not shift. After 10 minutes of trying to figure out our dilemma I discovered roots all wound around the front projection of the boat. Off I crawled and after another ten minutes of unwrapping, unwinding and crying with laughter we were once again free.

Our half an hour boat trip turned into 45 minutes and when we asked the boat man why he didn’t come to rescue us he simply said “I was too busy laughing”


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