Doug’s DIARY
It’s autumn. The birch trees are shedding their leaves already, and the sycamores are just beginning to change to a dramatic and most splendid range of fiery yellows and reds.
It’s probably more information than you need, or want to know, but my long johns have been re-employed after their summer vacation in the wardrobe. I have several pairs, and they’ll be with me now until May at the earliest, while I bemoan the climate to the auburn-haired temptress who lured me from the tropics of Devonshire to this arctic region.
The workshop has been chilly on a few mornings recently. Thankfully, I’m still sporting my lockdown hairstyle. There’s little excuse for being so shaggy really, considering I live with my ‘stylist’, but I think I’ll keep it now until the spring; every little helps. The builder, who we originally asked to fit the wood burner, before we bombarded him
