Can you tell what it is yet?

Putting this together has been very, very satisfying. It seems I've not quite grown out of meccano. There are a few more bits and pieces to add yet, but once it's finished it'll be a biodiesel reactor.

Add used chip shop oil and a bucket of chemicals, leave for a few hours and (with some luck) out comes diesel. It should be good enough for running the truck and heating the caravan and will cost quite a bit less than normal diesel. Best of all though, it's carbon neutral - recycled fuel made with recycled plumbing.

The Often Forgotten Fifth Teletubby

The shed roof is (was) corrugated asbestos. Strangely the beams that I thought were holding it up stopped six inches short of the lintels that should have been supporting them. There's no evidence the two ever met, so it seems the roof was holding up the beams, which I'm pretty certain is the wrong way round.

It's taking a while to dismantle it - dressing up like a grubby teletubby soon gets very warm the moment the sun comes out. The other sheds will (hopefully) be taken down by someone else, who can do all the messy work. In the mean time I need to sort this one out, so - after a long cold drink - it's back to the protective gear. 

Harvest time

This time of year is an absolute favourite. We both grew up working on farms and bringing in the harvest was a great job.

The combines are out, running on past sunset until the dew comes down and makes the grain too damp to store. Trailing behind them like lost puppies are the tractors and trailers waiting for the auger to swing up from the side of the combine - ready to unload again.

I couldn't help smiling today as I was walking back from the village and stopped so William could watch the big old combine starting a new field. Even in the face of modern farming techniques and mechanisation everyone helps on the harvest, keeping every tractor, trailer, combine, grain blower and shovel moving. True to form the tractor following the combine was being driven by a skinny teenager, sitting proud in the cab and obviously full of the importance of his job. I bet the radio was on loud.

Now the air is damp with dew and the bats are out chasing insects. The smell of dusty straw is sweet and mist is coming up from the fields. Time for bed.

Chicken House

Even if we can't build our own house just yet, we can build something for chickens to be proud of (we hope).

We're going to be getting four birds from Fenland Fowl, hopefully to give us some lovely fresh eggs. There's just time to go and buy feeders, drinkers and layers pellets, and then we'll see if the cunning chicken coop design works.

The nettles in the background are making a last stand before the strimmer gets dusted down. Try to ignore them - we do.