The clocks have changed and the nights are drawing in. The fires have been lit 🔥 and the cottage is snug, the telly’s on, the lights are low, and the snoring is starting.
“What? No I’m awake!”
“What are we watching then?”
“It’s….. well, it’s….. …….. zzzzzzzzz”.
(We walked past a lit front room in the village the other evening and the curtains weren’t drawn which drew our attention to a couple on a sofa watching the image screen. We weren’t looking in, you understand, we weren’t being nosy, it just caught our eyes, as it does. There he was bolt upright and rapt, she was by his side wrapped around his arm, romantically, fast asleep. The electric log effect fire was “lit”, the main light was on , with a coolie hat shade from JL, and a couple of table lamps with tungsten filament bulbs, and maybe that’s the point…. If he wanted the train spotting Portillo on, he was going to enjoy it, sitting in a room that’s as bright as the sun to make sure he lasted to the end.). Anyway,
Been along the river picking up flotsam or jetsam (whichever) and converting it into kindling and firewood. We need a delivery of seasoned as well, after all who wants to watch what’s on the box anyway?
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