An Early Spring Clean

The donkey house- so-called- is a small stable block- with a low roof- too low for a proper-sized horse- which almost certainly was once used to accomodate a donkey or pony.  In my parents time- which began in the mid seventies- it has been used as a tool- shed, a garage for the mower and- more recently- as a dumping place for junk that was too big to fit in a dustbin. Over the past few days we've been clearing it out. At the weekend I hoiked out most of the wood- including substantial items of furniture- and burned it, yesterday Matthew and Anya loaded all the scrap metal onto the flat-bed of Matthew's truck and took it away- with a view to cashing it in when the market recovers- and today Julia and Anya are getting rid of several winter floods worth of silt.

And now it'll be good for....well, I don't don't know what exactly, but the grottiness was beginning to nag at me- and it won't be doing that any more. 

9 to 5

The kind of life that everyone is supposed to want- safe, secure, prosperous, no serious worries or upsets, steady employment, 2.5 children- all that sort of thing-  is the kind that people are most likely to regret when they look back from the lip of the grave. On the other hand a rackety sort of life, full of changes of scenery and fortune- with slidings up and down the social scale- is the kind they're most likely to be pleased with.

We're not timorous beasties, us humans- we're designed for hardship and adventure. Our brains and bodies are adaptable and resilient. They crave the fullest exercise we can give them. 9 to 5 is not really what we want.

I look back and, by and large, the things I'm proudest of are the risks I took.