Wildling

It feels weird to write about 2020 when in a sense it's still with us - a long, dark lockdown of the soul, stretching out into the indeterminate future. What a fucker of a year. The virus has impacted so many lives in so many ways it makes everything else seem trite by comparison. I type this sitting staring at the walls in locked down London as the trees in Devon slumber peacefully. Another growth ring for them. We got planning permission in the spring to build a cider shed at the orchard meaning I can move out of my in-laws barn which I was slowly colonising as I added more and more containers to the collection like a Speidel fanboy. This is probably not going to be a fast move (£££!) but it gives the long term plan a little more solidity and a path to the future. Speaking to pubs, even when they were open this year, tastes changed somewhat; the drinking crowd being younger as the oldies were more likely to play it safe and stay home, meaning a shift to sweeter cider or away from