spirit

Yesterday I was at the hut, waiting for the white van to arrive full of the discarded wood from a stage set. It came and was carried to the side of the hut to be examined at a later date.
Some of it can be taken apart and used for building purposes - rebuilding, adding to, substituting - this is the unfinished hut.

The rain poured down, we made muddy tracks everywhere, but so hard was the rain that it immediately pounded the tracks flat. The most of the wood was left under a blue tarpaulin (I no longer have any idea where it came from - it's been around for years) while the choicest bits - unused offcuts - were stored inside the hut.

This happens most years.  Not the rain (which is everyday stuff), but the end-of-tour stage-set delivery. One year, after my play Mouth of Silence, the delivery also had in it a full-size skeleton. That went to the folk who organise the Hallowe'en walk at Carbeth. Another year saw a huge quantity of ready-made flat walls. A hutter friend took these and made them the basis for a (sort of) brand new hut.

The spirit of recycling has never not been known at Carbeth: if something's not here now, we wait - and it will turn up.
It's patience and that sure knowledge (together with a little healthy idleness) that make this the unfinished hut.
There are others like it - and always have been.