I love how you have an aesthetic appreciation of wood that will heat our home all winter. I mean you don’t have that same affection for heating oil for the radiators. You don’t go down to the cellar and gaze lovingly at fuel tanks. But wood. That’s another matter.
And better still, David and Fenning marched up into the forest first thing on Christmas Eve to fell dead chestnut trees and we were summoned a few hours later to get the product of their labours down to the house.
Wood chucking. I wish I had taken a photo or two of the team hurling logs down the mountain side. But there was no time to stop and do frivolous things like record the event. It was all action.
And in no time – well two hours – the wood was down. Thrown in relays to the top of the parking area in the east garden, then stacked in the boot of the car, driven to the courtyard (mind the mulberry as you pass), then relayed once more to the barn.
Andrew, David and Fenning needed to have a splitting wood contest, while I contented myself with driving the full to the brim car up the rally course that is the entrance to our house. With the new rill down one side of the drive, you only get up to the courtyard with centimetres to spare either side of the tyres.
Good practice for driving on our main roads.
The weather was absurdly warm. Do I keep saying that every single post? And we did the two chateaux walk plus an additional walk to the riding school to try and spot Ulysse among the 23 other greys around the fields.
I thought he had escaped. But it turns out he is having a few days at Maude’s. So that mystery is solved.
So, great friends, balmy weather, feasting food, and help with our wood. Who could ask for a better Christmas gift?