Harri pulled me from sleep this morning. Her persistence finally overcoming my resistance, I left the warmth of B and the duvet and climbed upstairs. I knew from the light – or lack of it – that it must be wet outside and it is. It’s raining. This week has been dry so far; we even had a day of no weather: no wind, no rain, no sun: a relentlessly grey day. But today looks set to be solidly damp. The view from here is dank, dismal and dripping. Water-washed green: the valley is poised to pull out its summertime splendour but that won’t be happening today.
Today, indoor tasks and an afternoon shopping trip beckons. We may be about to enter the final week of April but it’s still stove weather. At least now we have no smoke problems. We’ve mastered the wood burner; it no longer belches smoke into the room rather than up the chimney. But we’ve yet to resolve the mystery of the persistent pong and without the smell of smoke, the pong is very obvious. This is a modern house but it has the feel of an old one. Part of that feel stems from the many little quirks and niggles it presents us with. And one of those niggles is the unpleasant, if mercurial, smell. It comes and goes, appears and disappears in different places. B thinks it’s to do with having a septic tank. He has proposed an experiment for today. Perhaps it will work…
It did…
Thank goodness!
A Corner of Cornwall 