Easter is nearly here and spring has swept in on a tide of blossom and sunshine. The central heating has been switched off and I’m hoping that the daily ritual of lighting the woodburner will soon be over. As we get nearer the back of the log heap I’m always a bit wary moving the last bits as I’m not sure what will be underneath them. This time nothing ran out and and the only mice I found were dried up corpses hidden in the debris on the floor.
Our wood is kept in a little curved brick shed on the side of the house though I have no idea of its original use. Somebody has cut through the bricks to make a doorway, which is slightly worrying as this is at the base of a chimney, although it’s probably been like this for over a hundred years and nothing untoward has happened yet. But it is very dark in the woodshed, so if I have to fetch wood at night, Ada Doom’s words hang in the air as I open the door, just in case there’s something nasty in the woodshed.