Something in the woodpile

Well, my dears, the peace and somnambulistic ritual of life on our little estate has been well and truly shattered over the last few days for we have once more had workmen in the house. The preparation, the undertaking and the clear up are inevitably an upheaval but are the beginnings of a programme of works scheduled across the year to maintain our old home for generations to come. The positive side of this is the aforementioned reviewing and repurposing of the contents of one's home for it has been the recipient of items from the homes of others, some intentionally given and others inherited. This is our opportunity to consider our options and select those that stay with us and those that will be offered up for the use of others. All storage spaces within the house will be stripped of its contents and consideration undertaken before any restocking ensues. Thankfully, we have spread the task over the year as the workmen come and go, for the male guardian and I do so hate major upheaval amidst the professional toil, as many of us do.

Our biggest project over the year will be the review of our "library" stock, for we are both ardent readers. Whilst we have both utilised the mechanical devices for reading, our preference remains the printed word in the form of a book. This does however create the problem of storage for we have many, many books through the classics to popular fiction and personal interest tombs. This will require nerves of steel and true negotiation skills to undertake, me thinks. 

A bonus, however, of having people in the house, and a soupçon of amazingly clement weather (read that as not raining) is that we have restocked the log shed for next winter. Oh, the joy in a full log shed; the cut wood can bake away and dry out beautifully over the summer months. This ensures, dear souls, a low water content and thus means a better burn, which in turn is better for the fire and the chimney. The male guardian and I do feel that this is a job well done and were most delighted with ourselves once 'twas complete. Why, we did celebrate with a fine cup of English tea and a slice of homemade Victoria sandwich; such decadence, my dears, but one that was well deserved, I do believe.