The wind's got up again.
It's all grey and horrible outside.
The Spanish Broom has been stretched sideways.
I keep bumping my head against a branch.
I'll have to saw it off.
I can't stake it because a stake would have to go into the ground precisely where the compost bin is and I can't move the compost bin because there isn't anywhere else to put it and because Ming isn't here to help me move it and he is the only person whose help I would want in anything.
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