A certain restlessness yesterday that seemed to be caused by the news of a friend's sudden death made me go and prise Toad out of his office for the purpose of walking round the field with me.
It was still blowing fiercely so I had to tie my hat on with a scarf to keep it close to my ears. We headed up the field first to check out the blue tarpaulins above the field boundary. Last year some people seemed to be building a den up there but it looked as if, what with the gales, the tarps were beginning to part from their moorings.
They were. And they were being torn to shreds. We decided to clear them up and remove all the washing line rope from the trees they were tied to. The knots were not "proper knots" so it's a good thing I carry a penknife in my pocket. Without freezing hands we might have managed to undo them but we only had freezing hands. We brought the tarps back home. One might be useful in the woodshed but the other is now binned.
We also tried to pile up the shed load of tools and chairs and other paraphernalia that had been left to rust and rot. I counted four spades, a rake, heavy loppers, shears, a bow saw, and several pairs of gloves among all the other stuff. Some people obviously have too much stuff because it means nothing, apparently, to just leave it to litter and rust and freeze into the countryside.
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| The dross |
We also brought home a crowbar and a useful stretchy cord. We'll go back and clear the rest of the stuff bit by bit. Just before we left the site I went round picking up chucked away Irn Bru cans and throwing them onto the pile for later collection too.
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| The site just before we left it and carried away the blue tarps |
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| Plastic rope and shreds of tarp |
