The first sight of the sun today brought out the mad dog in this Englishman. My mission was firewood cutting and I had set about the job in my standard kit of a thick Aran knit sailing sweater under an all weather winter coat with thermally protected extremities. Had I carried on thus attired, past the first two logs, I would have lost so much weight, through perspiration, that, having become a shadow of my former self, I would have had to give up with the axe and turn on the electric heating in the house for enough time for me to make a noose and hang myself before the bill arrived. Instead, I took off the two layers of insulation and revelled in what I can only describe as wonderful, warm sunlight. As in a mirage, this summer’s breakfast appeared before me, making me reach out and eat a mouthful of sawdust.
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