I’ll tell you all one thing. Whacking a solid chunk of concrete constantly for an hour is very cathartic. I was barely annoyed that it was basically a brick/slab/nonsense filled barrel of laughs by the end of it.
I guess calling it a barrel of laughs is quite apt.
Maybe there is an Agatha (Christie) solution: there are two or three plots going on at once. It was a fish smoker, that became a tandoor, then filled in to become a table base.
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I was barely annoyed that it was basically a brick/slab/nonsense filled barrel of laughs by the end of it.
I guess calling it a barrel of laughs is quite apt.
Gardening in Central Norfolk on improved gritty moraine over chalk ... free-draining.
But WHY THE VENT?
“It's still magic even if you know how it's done.”