Last winter we were the masters of firewood. Ample supplies, thanks to kind folk,and having our own huge sycamore fall over in the wind. The summer of 2015 saw the woodyard completely cleared, as amazing volunteers helped us split, chop, and stack the whole lot inside.
The four huge spruce trees at the front of our cottage offer plenty of welcome privacy, but they do overshadow the growing field somewhat, so we decided to take down the largest of them and see what a difference it makes.
For three years people asked “free range hens – don’t you worry about foxes?”. “Not at all”, I would reply casually, and so our hens wandered all over the place, right up until the night I came to their house, to be greeted only by the plaintive cheeping of one of the baby hens
After all the hoo-ha, storm Frank didn’t hit too hard, and everything remains standing. Seeing as we have so much in the way of weather here, I asked Santa for a weather station and she has obliged, so now I have even more things to measure, and finally I know what it takes for the wind turbine to do its thing.
Well, our climate chickens are fairly coming home to roost tonight, as storm Frank rages around us. Destructive winds are raging, huge amounts of rain falling, and we genuinely don’t know what will still be standing come the morning.
Midwinter is upon us, the weather continues to play tricks – outside a sycamore tree is starting to bud, and the temperature remains in double digits while the fifth storm of the winter has begun to rage. All very strange.
Storm Desmond is upon us, and the wind is fairly howling around the house, but for the first time, it is howling outside and not inside. I am delighted to announce that the floor repair worked a treat, and the filled-in floor in the classroom is warm and draught free.
