Building Bridges .....

 Round the back of my cottage, the ground rises away, up where my trees are. Just as the ground falls away to the other side of my humble abode then. 

 So, it doesn't take a fucking Einstein to work out what happens when it pisses with rain, does it?

 Thus, with a view to stopping my place ever getting swept down the slope by any particularly nasty storm, it was suggested that a drainage trench would be the thing.

  This was duly dug. By a handy Council worker in an available JCB. Only, that was a few years ago now. And, there it stood. I now had a bloody great ditch, effectively dividing my property. 

 The ensuing years haven't been that kind to the particular spot along the ditch where myself, my Dogs and even my fucking horses have scrambled up the far side, in all weathers. In short? It's long since become a fucking nightmare!

Dogs Eye View

 We all have them, don't we? These recurring nightmares which we swear and curse about. Always vowing to get something done about it. 'One of these days' .....

Ditch's View of Niggy, Viewing

 Well, some years later, I've finally had one of those days ~ several, in fact. But, most of those were spent simply waiting for two, generous coats of Creosote Substitute to soak in.

 But, yes. I set too, with saw, drill and hammer. Threw in a bit of ironmongery and thought. Bob's ye uncle .....

Solid, Workmanlike Job

    

  So, after fucking years of risking my neck, humping everything from chain saws to dead Dogs up that treacherous 'bank slide' (I have my little grave yard up there) I finally spent about twenty quid and a couple of hours. And built a bridge!

Orange Dog Approved

 

 Probably out last me, now. It'll certainly make getting up there, to check my nest boxes and such, a whole lot easier. And it'll be a fucking god send, when I get that big Sitka Spruce dropped and chop that fucker up. Run the logs down in the wheel barrow.

 Showed Pat' and to say he was impressed would be about the understatement of the year! Never seen him so fucking enthusiastic in his praise for anything!

 And Pat's notoriously fussy. Yet I honestly expected him to make me an offer for it, so he could take it home and hang it on his wall!

 Not on his wall though. Across my ditch. How in hell did I allow it to take so long to get sorted? 

Job Done