The weasels under the stairs eat the mice.
I eat shortbread and drink coffee and squint at the bit of wall I have
scrubbed clean.
We are all happy and getting fatter.
Except, sadly, the mice.
An account of life in a Northumbrian Croft
In November 2006 I was offered the chance to take on a three room cottage with no road, electricity, or mains water - the "Stone Caravan" of the title.
As I don't have an ounce of sense I said yes, and this is the journal of my attempt to live in the wood...
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