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chimneys and chickens

This is probably going to be a bit disjointed.Today I mostly slept ready for my night shift. A man came and gave the tree in the garden a haircut, I sat on the back door step drinking tea and dreaming of the day I can do this on a windswept scottish island and the island will be called "home". K came home from work poorly and went to bed and snoozed most of the afternoon, which is usually my trick not hers.

I played my Guitar and sang "Kathys song","famous blue raincoat" and "fire and rain" then drank more tea.

I walked the 2 miles to work rather than drive in my dads car, no reason really, its just much more pleasant to walk there. its gives me a little time to adjust from being "at home" to being "in work mode" when I drive the transition is too quick. I like to walk places. it much easier to notice changes when you walk, the trees change and so does the light as 3 min and 56 seconds of daylight is stolen from each day as we move into autumn.

I think I have been a little more relaxed the last few weeks, Its possibly the realisation that I dont have to do this job forever. I've been planning my startup business and its a little bit exciting. not wild but ok.

As requested by animamea its gasman story time.

I worked in a semi-rural area and went to a old farm to fit a gas fire. Now the rules say that before a gas fire can be fitted the chimney must be swept, I asked farmer man if his chimney had been swept and he said "no, but you have a brew and I'll do it now" So I sat drinking tea, Mrs farmer then held a sheet up in front of the fireplace and there was a clunk of a ladder on the outside wall followed by heavy booted feet climbing up. I was intrigued by this as I had always seen chimneys swept from the bottom before... but I just watched and drank my tea.

The next seconds there was a frantic thrashing noise from up the chimney and a soot blackened chicken clucked/fell/flapped onto the hearth in a cloud of soot. Mrs farmer then picked up the bird by its feet carried it outside, handed it to Mr farmer who launched it down the chimney a second time.After it landed Mrs farmer wrung its neck and offered it to me.

I declined the offer and fitted the fire.

So just as there is more than one way to skin a cat, there is more than one way to sweep a chimney!

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