Burned

Finally, we had our day of fire. 08.30 until 18.00, feeding the flames in the fire-pit, at the same time as scraping and scouring the equipment we wanted, and are permitted, to keep, before passing it to our garrulous bee inspector, with her £400 blowtorch, to ensure the eradicstion of the offending bacterium with yet more fire. We took the opportunity to add to the inferno anything that we (well, I) had kept 'just in case', but is now a liability, as a potential refuge of infection. A thorough purging, which feels both physical and mental; at the same time a sad necessity infused with a feeling of renewal. The job is done; we are beyond tired, running on reserves and auto-pilot

I feel not too bad posing an image that includes some of the charred remains of the brewery stable roof. The brewery themselves are leaning in to the misfortune on the basis of 'no such thing as bad publicity'; they have sent a graphic image of the flaming building to everyone in their mailing list, with an upbeat message declaring business-as-usual. The business in the first floor offices has already found new premises. The resident in the first floor flat is being found a new home. The horses are indifferent while there is fresh grass to be dealt with. When the roof is back, I will not be able to see them here, so this is a limited-edition shot