Making stacks

Every man looks upon his wood pile with a sort of affection.

It’s sunny and mild. Claire comes down from Fife. We go out into the pond and wrap the tree fern. I start stacking wood while Claire protects some saplings.

Angus comes down (much) later from Edinburgh. We eat roast lamb, roast potatoes, black kale and sprouting broccoli with red currant jelly. All home produced. I even manage to rustle up some baked apples.