Yesterday was windy to say the least. The prevailing wind in these conditions is troublesome, but would not appear to be as damaging nor as mischievous as turbulent gusts. Their ferocity prompted me to baton down the hatches and place straw bales at the base of the awning. This action was reinforced by the placement of chunks of concrete salvaged from a shattered slab, placed along the awning skirt.
Nature called around 17:00 and it was then I noticed the compost toilet had been damaged. The tent material used to cover the windward side had been shredded rendering the inside completely exposed. But when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. Even if the door decides to twat you across the shins, then disappear, providing all with a view of your activity. A most excellent form of laxative.
After a very cold and hurried dump, I repaired it by screwing a cladding of slabwood in place.
Am finding myself increasingly enjoying the time spent cutting kindling for the fire. What with the realisation I have another child in the making, its good to find somewhere to be alone. Its hardly a huge surprise, nor accident, but remains a shock to the system. A shift in how I perceive the future. A change in needs and priorities.
Now the two man tent containing logs and brewing kit is my sanctuary. Would prefer the barrels to be full of beer. Well one has hawthorn brew in. Not enough for my liking however.
Found out yesterday that two weeks ago, my best friends long term girlfriend dumped him seemingly for no reason. He'd been in a mess and rang to ask if he could stay for a week, see me, volunteer and generally get a change of scenery.
Emma agreed to this, and he booked a week off work. Then she changed her mind.
If Moses can't come to the mountain, the mountain must come to Moses. Figure that this will be mutually beneficial. I need space, and he needs me. My face can be his change of scenery. Emma might kick off but she has no right to decide who can or can't visit Lammas.
M Jones
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