There are doors to the north and west.
A pile of wood stands by the house. There is a tree, a sort of willow, in the corner. Last year the leaves went black and fell off, and some of the branches became dry and brittle. We thought it was dead and cut it down, leaving only a metre or so of the trunk, as the cats like to climb on it. Only a few weeks later, sprouts appeared on the side of the stub, and began to develop into leaves, and then into branches. Now, a year later, the tree is again nearly as tall as the house.
Beds with a few strong-willed flowers and shrubs surround a patch of green moss, with grass growing through in places.
A tall fence surrounds the garden, the result (or possibly the cause) of a feud between the previous owners of our house, and the previous neighbours.
1996-03-24