We have just got the wood pile stocked up for the winter.  We are both originally city folk who moved to the rural edges only a decade ago.  Now we find ourselves further into the wilds of culchie land where everything is week good or wild good?  We are not really sure which it is or if it is good or bad. We just laugh and say that  it is.  This, of course, we say with an accent that betrays no culchie in our blood.   I feel the urge to tell them that my mother’s mother has her roots in this part of the world, actually deeper into culchieness, but I hold back for fear of akwardness and over keen-ness.  So, we have stocked ourselves with firewood for the winter as this seems to be the done thing in such parts. The pile is 7 logs deep and 6 feet high.  Think of how many cosy nights with the feet up that is.  Bliss. Bliss that I believe is week good.