Honestly, I go away for one night and I come back to find the garden deficient to the tune of one shed.
Or rather, the shed had undergone a radical alteration and was now in the form of a pile. The other half, despairing of anyone wanting to come and take it away, had got the bit between his teeth and had spent a happy afternoon tearing it down.
So now the question was what to do with the shed parts, given that most of the structural wood was fairly rotten and what wasn’t rotten was still fairly liberally coated in chicken poo.
Some of the sidings have been tentatively repurposed to reach the parts of the planned veg patch that the carpet didn’t cover. Thinking about it, I could have put down the chicken poo first, but it has literally only occurred to me just now. As it is, I’m not convinced they will do much to kill the grass but it’s always worth a shot.
As for the rest, we did consider using it to make biochar – something I do still want to have a go at – but in the end we decided just to burn it.
Theoretically, I disapprove of bonfires. And yet, there’s something about an outdoor fire on a dark January day that seems right. And it beat the hell out of paying any attention to what was going on in Washington this afternoon.
Tomorrow I travel up to Glasgow to meet with some fab cycling women for an event we have tentatively dubbed the Cake Summit. There is not yet any formal agenda. But there will be plenty of cake.
Sometimes you need a spot of bonfires and brownies in a world that is going insane.