Coed Poeth

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Pictured, our log store, now replete with a ton of wood, provided by a friend & neighbour who has woodland locally, the only bit that wouldn't fit, in the barrow. The woodstove project has been completed just in time for the projected cold-snap, which kicked in this morning. This evening, we are warm and snug in our mountain fastness, rather than freezing our nuts off and spending a small fortune on electricity: the consumption of which we are whittling away on as we speak.

Oh, the second business card I mentioned yesterday? A superb fish-only restaurant, several miles outside Florence, that I was treated to a meal in, around twenty years ago, whilst attending another European project meeting. I had the most astonishing frutti di mare I'd ever attempted to eat: the plate, or rather, soup dish, was fifteen inches or more across, and two inches in depth: containing just about all the sea-food species that I was aware of, plus many that I'd never seen or eaten before, stacked to a height of several inches. I gave it my best, shall we say...

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