If the British have the most changeable weather on the planet, then Cornwall is one of the corners of the Isle that often gets it first at its most unpredictable. We have has really lovely sunshine this morning, warm and bright. We have a long dark corridor, long enough to run in, on the west side of the wing of the house. At the end of this corridor is the door to the room we currently use as a kitchen, very squatter fashion, which is double aspect with windows facing east and south. We have no idea how old this part of the building is, the modern ‘front extension’ is 1785, and the door bares the scars of the many alterations to accommodate the movement of the building over its many years and it is still ill fitting. This morning this room was lit with a shining golden yellow brightness by the low sun, and it leaked out through the gaps all around this door and formed a halo, making it look as if the Martians had landed. By early afternoon the change could not have been more dramatic. I was taking pictures of the lovely Kernow chocolate to put on the web site; I do this at the top of the house under the lantern window that is in the roof to light the stairs. The hail was so heavy and noisy I felt compelled to stop and listen, flicking through my mind the lay-out of the roof. The enclosed leaded valley that drains via the open covert that runs through the loft, and cascades down the mansard roof to the gutter outside. I needed to reassure myself I couldn’t hear running water anywhere I didn’t expect too. Having the new roof first was such a good idea.