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The rubbish left after removal of all the 30cm lengths of "proper" firewood from yesterday's trailer load.
Completely trivial, I know, but I am really enjoying the lamps with their new [green] shades. The table lamp in the corner of the lounge is quite wonderful. It lights the room softly and is far kinder to the still shabby decor. Far better than overhead lights, daylight or camera flash. The white, painted brick wall has taken on a whole new appearance. Providing a soft wash of light into the room.
I also have a lamp on either side of my untidy computer desk now. Which, together, provide a much higher level of overall brightness. Compared to the dim, now distant past. LED bulbs make it effortless to have enough light. Without the toll on electricity bills or my personal, climate conscience.
Plans for today: I need to get the remaining firewood into the greenhouse from the trailer. Preferably before it rains. I also need to seriously tidy up the lounge. In preparation for the increasingly rare visit from the council's talking therapist. I must now presume that I am no longer considered in need of critical, emotional support.
She was wonderful to talk to. With just the right balance of empathy, honesty, praise and openness. Her actions in getting me to become more social, after years of isolation, proved to be priceless gifts. Helping enormously on my way to recovery from the loss of my wife.
Without the aid of this councillor I would probably be sitting here alone. In the dark and the cold. Of an unchanged and hideously disorderly house. Rather than slowly building a more comfortable home for myself. With over forty, new social contacts.
As almost the only visitor. For quite some time. I deliberately used her visits to spur on my painting, renovation and tidying. If only out of shame at the state of the place. Also, to be openly rewarded with her warm praise for all my efforts. I had been short of praise for far too long. So that I had lost my confidence in my ability to improve things.
I could build large wooden sheds from scratch working alone. Build complex, two storey, domed observatories and all the instruments within them. All by myself. Provided it was done outside. I repaired our various cars myself for decades. But was considered unworthy of even the smallest repair jobs indoors.
Despite having fitted a new roof with thick insulation and two dormers. Closed off the balcony with huge, recycled windows. Fitted all new doors and many new windows. Built the kitchen cupboards and working surface. New, insulated, concrete floors with underfloor heating. New boarded ceilings. Rendered walls. Tiled throughout.
Hand excavated and installed a completely new PVC drainage system for the whole house out to the boundary. [Approved] Replaced all the old plumbing throughout the house. Built the huge, lean-to greenhouse and laid a herringbone brick floor. Fitted a new bathroom. Installed a stove with a domestic water heating system. Always working alone. Using a lifetime of built up experience. Learning new skills from books or videos. When needed for safety and building rules compliance.
My wife called me Mr Pastry. A bumbling, TV clown from our 1950s childhood.
9.30 I have returned from a late walk to the lanes. The pain in my back and hips was soon forgotten. A couple of pheasants pecked at the fields. The cold wind was easily neutralised simply by pausing. Ample evidence of the wind chill factor being dependent on quite low velocities. It seems this morning's rain has been cancelled. Though still no sign of the promised sunny periods.
Now I had better stop time wasting and get on with moving the firewood. I have a chest of drawers to be rid of at the recycling yard. Not to mention the beheaded conifers. It was suggested it might make firewood from the chest but it is varnished inside. It would also need cutting into useful lengths. More work than the savings warrant, I think.
11.30 45F/7C and weak sunshine. I emptied the trailer of the remaining firewood and rubbish. See the pictures above. This was supposed to be a trailer load of premium priced, 1000 Kroner [£116 equivalent] dried beech firewood of 30cm length from the local timber yard.
I wondered why the driver went to the far end of the shed. When there was a 2000 m^3 of proper firewood from the open end and onwards. The digger driver had obviously been told to get rid of some rubbish wood by the woman in the office. Some of it was covered in stinking white mould as well as many being very short in length.
Do you suppose all their customers get this quality of service and a load of garbage? Or do you have to be a pure bred Dane to qualify for the expected service? It's a shame there is no consumer protection in Denmark. I expect they are still waiting to invent it independently. Otherwise it would conflict with Janteloven. [Jante's Law]
Filming, photographing or naming a possible criminal online can result in the "reporter" being heavily fined! While the criminal will often be fined less. If I mention the name of the timber yard online I face the risk of prosecution and a large fine!
Those of you with long memories will know. That I was [almost] cheated over my firewood purchase in June. I paid for low moisture content, 15%, oven ready firewood but was served with normal quality. 20-25%. Fortunately I had my Morsø moisture meter with me. So the first trailer load had to be thrown off the trailer by hand. To be replaced with the correct quality. For which I had paid a considerable premium.
No doubt the staff remembered me as a nuisance from six months ago. They can't get that many customers speaking Danish with an English accent. So, I had to be punished! For doubting this timber yard and their very questionable business practices.
12.00 45F/7C. I broke up the unwanted chest of drawers with the sledge hammer/splitting maul. Before taking a trailer load of mixed scrap wood and garden waste to the recycling yard.
12.45 The greenhouse now stinks of mould from the latest load of firewood. Is it dry rot? Can it spread? Perhaps I am exaggerating the racist element due to the paranoia of 26 years of suffering from overt Danish racism.
The timber yard staff could just be crooks. Though that doesn't explain why I had the good stuff last time. After questioning the moisture content of the first batch. Which was fine for cleanliness and uniformity of size. Then getting the crap I had [literally] dumped on [and all around] me yesterday.
I just thought back to the first time I visited the timber yard for firewood some years ago. I paid and was expecting the driver to fill the trailer with his waiting bucket loader. But then the chap in the office came out and said something to him. The driver was sent away to do something else. So I was left to fill my own trailer with logs by hand. The machine would have taken seconds. Let's just go with overt, Danish racism, shall we?
13.20 Lunch over and the sunshine has gone. A small flock of mixed birds was foraging around the remains of the chestnut out on the western lawn.
14.00 47F/8C. Thick, but patchy mist has descended. There is a weather warning for thick mist overnight.
17.30 I have cut the skirting boards to length for both halls. Six pieces, all cut on the mitre saw. The boards are all sitting in place but some need slight relief on their bottom edges. To sit right down on the tiles and grout. Then they can be screwed to the walls and filled around the edges to hide any gaps. It is quite an improvement already.
I am going to replace the inside doorstep with birch plywood. The existing board hides the water meter but is unnecessarily thick. Which lifts the inside doormat somewhat. So that it sits at an odd height above the hall tiles. I may make a channel construction. To fit down around the meter but support a much lower step at tile height.
I now know of two more contacts who have lost their wives to cancer. Both are still missing them after some years and often talk to them at home.
We must pay a terrifying price for their companionship. The only bright side is that we didn't leave them alone.
19.30 Dinner was poached eggs on toast with a few fried mushrooms on the side. The latter were completely superfluous to the enjoyment of my perfect eggs. 😋 I just didn't want the mushrooms to go off.
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