Stairway

Still waiting on the Lord of the Manor to repair our stairs, the treads are cracking and splitting something rotten. Woke up all of a fluster past midnight and stumbled down in the pitch blackness narrowly not falling headlong over a cat. Maybe should open a book on whether the reapairs will happen afore one of the planks crumbles beneath our feet and breaks a femur.

The woodshed is still no more than a pile of bricks and its too hard to store logs within a pile of bricks.