Well; The Stove's Lit .....

19th September, 2009. I've finally done what I kept telling the Dogs I would have done, had I brought some turf up from the stock shed. Been telling them that for a few nights now. Just been too busy, in the day, to even think about it. Only when I've settled down of an evening that I've realised how the clothes I've worn for ... god knows how many months now ... just aren't cutting it any more.

Thursday, I think it was. The skip had arrived the evening before and I'd thrown myself into clearing out " The Ruin " the next day. Worked so fucking hard in weather I never really noticed ~ but it didn't rain ~ that I took my shirt off. And worked up a sweat anyway.

By dark, that night, I was trying to settle down and get my dinner on. But I could feel the cold trying for a grip on me. My head felt cold. My fingers ached. My whole system was warning me that I was a cold, old sack of shit who would be in big trouble soon, if I didn't do something.

Funny how I've so long since learned to listen to my body. Thus speak back to it. Work out a strategy for us both. And thus maintain good, basic health. (Don't confuse this with Fitness! I'm not fit to fuck! But, I honestly can't remember the last time I got a cold or flu) So, I put my bod warmer on, zipped up to the chin. Put my socks back on. Inside the hour, I was ready to join the SAS. Well; At least open the door for them!

Never felt overly warm in here that night though. And, tonight, at Dean O's, he sat there on his electric radiator and announced that it was 'Getting cooler'. He didn't mean the radiator either.

So, whoopee doo; Tonight, as I muttered to the Dogs about how I Would get some of that turf up here, the penny dropped. Wasn't there a load of peat briquettes in that damn green bucket that's been sat there since for ever? ..... God damn! Looked more like a bucket full of Dingo coloured rats, I'll grant ye. All furred up by the drifting and unnoticed hairs of the Lord Chief Shedder round here. But they still burn ok.

Fuck, it's warm in here! Dogs are all flaked out. Snoring and twitching in warm contentment. Me? I'm picking at the back of my dicklo. Back of my neck's actually getting 'A Bit Warm!'

Fuck it. Less than two weeks of sunny weather all year. Now the stove's on. I think Orange Dog and I may even turn the quilt down a bit tonight though! I guess we're both at that stage now where we'd as soon laze around inside a warm room as trudge about in the fucking rain.

We've had no 'Summer'. Here comes the 'Winter'.