Until I tried moving it I hadn't realised how heavy and most importantly how big the water tank we bought from one of the local militia clans is. Not having a crane handy the only way to shift it from the bottom of the smallholding up to the cottage was by willpower, stamina and swearing.
Things got interesting a third of the way along the track, the steep slope added to the fun I was having dragging the dead weight behind me, you can just make out the groove the base was carving as we made unsteady progress. I did stop for air at one stage and Spotty helpfully urinated on the rope I was using to pull the tank ever onwards. Cheers. With warm dripping rope in hand I carried on with the laborious task.
Finally I got it almost to where it should be, the double doors of the workshop. The plan was to give it a good clean out with the jet washer, the tank, not the workshop, and then install it in the black hole at the back, fill it with clean water and gloat when the next ice age arrives some time next weekend. This cunning plan has several unforeseen yet now glaringly obvious drawbacks. Size mainly. Even if I did clear an eight foot wide runway through the precious things of the workshop there is no way, except by liberal use of sledgehammers and explosives, that this behemoth water bottle will get through the doorway of the black hole. The alternatives for it are being explored now, including cutting the front off and using it as a spare room.