More butchness today in the garden. I successfully cut up a few more branches (we're talking multiples of logs now) with my new improved sawing technique. I think the problem I've also been having with wood is that it hasn't been cured, which is why it's still quite difficult to cut. Oh well.

I've changed my ferry tickets and I'm sailing back to Portsmouth on Sunday - assuming I don't get stuck in Paris. I'm leaving three days to get around the Périphérique but I'm hoping that I'll get off quite quickly so I can spend most of those in Paris with Jeremy. Grr. Rang him up and arranged to go and stay with him! Whee!

In a rare moment of double-butchness later in the evening, I decided I was bored with my remaining stitches so took them out myself. I am, therefore, completely stitchless, leaving just an icky scar. This means that when the final few little bits of scabby stuff have gone, I can once more perform oral sex with gay abandon! That will be such a relief!

I managed to keep a fire going - with my butch wood - most of the afternoon. I'm just doing little fires at the moment so I can line the fireplace with logs and dry them out over the next few days. Once there's enough done, I can start a fire burning/log drying cycle that'll self perpetuate, hopefully. Not impressed with the roast chestnut which had a worm inside.