Four Degrees

This morning we woke to the smell of burning oil. Once more our heating was not working.

Top temperature outside today was four degrees centigrade; I don’t know what it was inside, but I certainly wasn’t going out – so after lunch I practiced with my Nordic poles, reaching No. 21 Downton Lane before turning back. I didn’t time the walk this time, yet a stiff cold breeze added enough of a chill factor for me to travel as nippily as possible.

There is still a small supply of crab apples to nurture our regular blackbird visitor.

This afternoon Steve of Norman’s heating came to fix the boiler problem. There was a small amount of oil where it shouldn’t be in the system; Steve cleared it out.

Later, I read more of ‘The Brontës’ before dinner, which consisted of succulent roast chicken; crisp roast potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm Brussels sprouts, broccoli, and cauliflower with its chopped leaves for brassica; and tasty gravy with which I finished the Bordeaux while Jackie drank Diet Coke.

22 comments

  1. I’m glad Steve was able to come out today to take care of your heater.
    The photos with the blackbirds and berries are lovely. The crabapple berries are not the same as what we call cranberries, are they?

  2. Wow, I’m glad that your heating was repaired very quickly this time, Derrick! Have you guys considered switching to natural gas or propane?

    1. We don’t have gas in this area, John. With the new company we may have better luck. Thanks very much.

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