A gorgeous afternoon...plenty of sunshine and blue skies. I even risked opening the windows for a while...
Himself is on his hands and knees in the middle of the yard trying to move some of the gigantic stones which are blocking the water flowing freely in the drain...there is a rudimentary bridge, which was probably fine when it was a donkey and cart crossing it but not so good with tractors. So he's dug a feckin' great hole right in the middle to move the build-up of earth which has accumulated over the years. Some of the supporting stones have slid sideways and got themselves totally trapped.
The other bridge which goes over our part of the river is also very unstable...that's railway sleepers with stones laid on the top...but the sleepers are rotting away. Don't think he'll be able to repair that one.
It's all very well owning your own home but when it happens to be a leaky cottage on the edge of a bog and has several barns and outbuildings in various stages of falling down...and no longer being in the first flush of youth nor having any money...it's more of a hindrance than a pleasure.
My answer to everything which is in imminent danger of collapse is to put a layer of paint on it...hides a whole multitude of problems. But it would be awful silly to paint rotting railway sleepers, even supposing I could get at them. So I slap layers of paint over the cracks and blemishes indoors instead...looks nice, smells clean...sorted.
Do you remember when I was wondering when to stop adding people to the family tree...I took your advice and kept on adding brothers and sisters and their children and so on and now have just under two thousand people which alarmed me somewhat, until I saw another person's tree which has nineteen thousand people.
I'm in Cornwall at present with families who had huge numbers of children, most of whom seem to have survived into adulthood. But it's going way back to the 1500's so there is virtually no indication of what they did for a living. There are some parish records on-line for the main family which are virtually indecipherable and written in Latin...luckily a couple of other researchers have painstakingly copied out the relevant parts...they must have had the patience of a saint. And good eyesight.
Seriously old written records fascinate me...to be looking at a book whose pages are filled with the details of the births and marriages and deaths of the parish priests congregation...written in crabbed writing with not one inch of wasted paper. And to think those books have survived after all this time...
He would have written with a goose feather quill pen and liquid ink of course and perhaps scattered sand over the new entry to dry the ink quickly and stop it from blurring...
Time to close the windows and dole out pasta and dead cow for the oldies...it's odd not having Dinky sitting beside me while I type...she was the only dog who'd wait patiently for me to finish what I was doing while she'd sit and gaze me with her rheumy old eyes...