Yesterday was one of those days. As the day drew on, I got later and later, so finally realising I'd be returning home just after 6 I decided it was time to light a fire. There was a small problem with this, in that I had a) no firelighters, and b) no wood except for a log made up of a slice of large tree. This meant a visit to the local emporium of all things useful, CKs (note to self: I wonder if Calvin Klein really owns my local shop?). Now there was a slight malfunction with my shopping list. Firewood, check. Firelighters, bugger. Greg, the guy who works there, informs me they've had them on order, but they've not turned up.
"Oh, no problem" says I, "have you got anything flammable to help light the fire?"
"How about lighter fuel?" says he.
Yes. I know now.
I took it home, and treating it like barbecue fluid, I laid a carpet of firewood in the bottom of the firegrate, and then 'covered liberally' the wood. Again, like barbecue fluid, I left it to soak in to the wood, to make sure it would ignite. I even closed the door of the fire for 5 minutes, to ensure a good level of air passing over the fuel so that it would evaporate into the wood so much cleaner.
Yes. I know now.
Returning to the scene of the conflagration, I light a match.
"WHHHHHOOOOMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHAAAAARRRRRKIIIINNNNEEEELLLLLLLL"
"Again, again!" Says John, gleefully.
"Am I missing an eyebrow?*" I ask him
Mind you, the fire stayed lit. Even the large slice of dead tree burned away merrily for the course of the evening, and now this morning my house is still very toasty warm.
Just remind me not to do it again, ok?
*(c) 2003 Mythbusters.
A BRIEF HISTORY OF CHIPPY TEA
3 years ago
