Some more snow last night, making about 4”. A little also today. Not actually thawing today, but definitely less cold. Put oilstove in the kitchen, whereupon the pipes unfroze, disclosing the fact that one is burst. Kitchen & small room flooded 1” deep before I discovered what was happening.
Wood pigeon walking about in kitchen garden & unable to fly, presumably from hunger & cold. Did not care to molest it, though it was pecking at cabbages etc.
8 eggs. Sold 1 score @ 3/6.
Preventative maintenance would have come in handy, I see.
Ah, there’s that burst pipe.
Finally some *action* during WWII.
From Inside the Whale (Part II) [ March 1940 ]:
With rue my heart is laden
For golden friends I had,
For many a roselipt maiden
And many a lightfoot lad.
By brooks too broad for leaping
The lightfoot boys are laid;
The roselipt girls are sleeping
In fields where roses fade.
It’s Monday so Goring confiscates former Polish state property in Occupied Poland.
My reporter over in Colchester, the other Eric, reported today [Monday] that there was “More heavy snow all day. This is absolutely incredible! The general opinion is that this sort of winter occurs every 25 years and that this is as severe as the 1890-91 spell, and considerably worse than 1916.”
I wonder if the above-mentioned oilstove had been out there keeping the poultry from going stiff. I would be very uncomfortable if any room in my humble domicile was cold enough to freeze water.
Supposed Headline:
Orwell Sacrifices Own Comfort to His Poultry
When questioned, he allegedly said, “After all, they’re here, Inside the Whale, with me, aren’t they?” Mr. Orwell nodded toward the Skull of the Jackal which they knew better to look at but did anyway. He then went inside and closed the door with a soft click. Hens clucked in the background as the questioners held their breath and slowly backed away.