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| Tony with his trusty bow saw |
At the top of our orchard, we have about an acre of boggy ground that's fed by the limestone springs coming up from Edge Hill. One of our neighbourhood farmers once tried to find the bottom of one of the springs in the woods by putting lengths of connected drain rods into a bubbling hole. He tells us that he never found the bottom.
Now, the willows that were planted years ago to soak up some of the water have grown so tall that they've started to collapse under their own weight. What with the sinking, sucking mud and the falling trees, we call it Widow-maker Wood! (Maybe I should stop wasting time writing this blog and start up a horror novel.)
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| Jo with a cold toastie and hot tea and whisky |
Anyway, the point of this story is that, the week before Christmas, a willow tree fell onto our neighbour's barn, so while everyone else in the Universe was enjoying New Year lunch in front of a cosy fire, Tony and I spent the day sawing willow wood by hand and eating cold toasted sandwiches. (I did have a nip of whisky in my tea to ward off the cold. Brilliant.)
Still, I guess that in these times of austerity, at least we don't need to pay for a gym to burn off our Christmas calories, and who needs poncy canapes etc. when you can have a cold toasted sandwich in the great outdoors???
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