It was just an ordinary day.
Logs arrived while I was out, so that was good planning.
When I got home, Mr HB had gone to get the children from school, stacking half done.
So I rolled up my sleeves. Figuratively of course, it’s winter –and started moving the logs from the lane to the wood shed.
I could see the children way down the lane when they came back and they stacked the wood too, one more willingly than the other, but they were both ‘encouraged’ to help.
Then the light deepened and pinkened and I knew it was sunset even though we hadn’t seen the sun all day.
Bathed in a rose tint we stacked wood, complained about having to help, blew on our painfully frozen fingers.
An ordinary day.
Wood, sky, children, work, cold, light.