It really is remarkable how the Gods conspire against me.
I thought a bit of free time would allow a bit of writing time, or even dozing time.
I haven't had a doze in a couple of weeks and have done precious little with the fucking Book. Too busy!
My latest little timewaster is the aftermath of the winds we had. Of course some wanker had to refer to the winds as a Superstorm! What is it with the meeja these days that everything has to be written in fucking superlatives?.
I lost three tree trees and bits of some more and it created a bit of a mess of The Manor. The main trees that came down are/were beautiful forty five year old silver birches. On came down and brought the other with it though they didn't actually collapse in total. They are over at a forty five degree angle leaning on the remains of a third. I don't know what to do about 'em to be honest. Stoney suggested dynamite but even I tend to think that is a little extreme. Chainsaws ain't the answer because wherever the trunks are cut, they will become very unstable, and being a couple of feet in diameter, I wouldn't want to be under 'em when they finally collapse. Maybe I'll just leave 'em there?
I'm just back in from a session with a chainsaw. It's the first nice day we have had in weeks – sun shining, little wind but fucking cold on the fingers. I managed to shift some of the minor damage [tiddly little thing with trunk-diameters of six to nine inches] and as a result I'm fucked and frozen.
And that's the problem these days. I just end up knackered at the end of the day. Sometimes I'm even too knackered to make it to the pub which is alarming. The old Interweb has taken a terrible hit as a result. It's a couple of months since I have touched Skype and most evenings I don't even get around to reading the comments here.
I'm getting old.
On a brighter note.. the snowdrops are coming into flower.
And the evenings are noticeably brighter.
It ain't all bad.