Bin envy lament

You win, you lose.

Today we gained a triple compost bin. The chaotic pile that has grown by the house over the past fifteen years has been replaced by a commercial, assemble-it-yourself version. Claire and Angus have spent a few hours drilling and screwing metal tabs to pressure treated timber parts. It went together smoothly on a flattened piece of ground. Spirit levels were used.

Lost today - one Buff Orpington. A trail of feathers lead across the track, culminating in a big pile of them in the woodland. Angus fesses up that last week, on the way to school, he noticed that the automatic henhouse door was still shut. Assuming it was broken he propped it open, and promptly forgot about it. One less chook - thanks to over-diligence, forgetfulness and British Summer Time.

I roast pork for lunch and make apple sauce with last year's apples. The crackling is fantastic. Claire dozes it off and then heads for the west coast and a week of sailing. Angus and I prepare him for tomorrow's journey to Bristol. He even irons a shirt for the interview.

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