Thank you to all those who came to our house last night, we had a wonderful evening. Ping* and I made a sort of reading room in our living room displaying all our books so far, but especially Hard Wood Lesson, which is now finally finished. It feels good to have another book done.
After a little while we went out to the garden where some folks were sitting next to our hornbeam bonfire. I read out the poem, which is taken from notes I made with my father on carpentry shortly before his death, and then put it on the fire. I’ve never burnt a book before, and it seemed like quite a beautiful object; the pages curled upwards and glowed around the edges. Without prompting we all just stood and watched it burn in silence, which took quite some time, as if it were a natural part of the reading. One of those present said, on their way home, ‘it was a privilege to be here’. It certainly was a strange and genuine funereal atmosphere.