I had to clean out the fire grate tonight to get another fire going, I do it all the time in Winter, one of the few tasks the wife trusts me with. Although I say it myself I’m a dab hand at lighting a great coal fire, it’s an art that is dying out fast with fewer and fewer people buying coal these days, and who can blame them at 23 euros a bag! Actually it’s a task I really enjoy, the delicate placing of the paper and then the sticks, then selecting suitably sized pieces of coal and building it up leaving spaces for the air to freely flow through the coal, and finally taking a long strip if newspaper as a taper and lighting it all up, amazing! The yellow and orange flames dancing up the chimney, the crackle of the sticks and the odd spray of sparks, a delight to witness on a cold Winters night as you wait in anticipation of the warm delight to come. You can keep your stuffy gas or electric heating, central or otherwise, give me a coal fire any time, give it a match and it can never be beaten. I feel sorry for the generation that will never sit at a real fire in the future.
Stop it Jem, you are making me cry. Memories of the patterns the flames make. The smoke getting blown back into the room when windy.
The coal spitting embers out onto the carpet, if you don’t have a fire guard. Oh yes such memories. 
and the horse chesnuts we roasted on a small hand shovel?
we finally changed to smokeless fuel, I even cemented two second hand ones in myself and I must admit I loved coming down in the cold mornings and finding the living room roasting warm. there is a big argument raging in OZ at the moment about using and selling fossil fuels to places like India. So our coal mining still continues - god knows who uses coal anymore in OZ - its all electric, wind farms and solar panels. we get so much sunshsine and still can’t export it!
A good fire guard is essential Emjay, I always have safety on my mind, actually my sister in law in London sent us over a new guard this year with Santa and his Raindeers on the front of it, ain’t that nice.
The wife and me are sitting snugly in our armchairs, glasses of fine Port in hands while the wind is howling outside, sheer bless!
I’m watching a good program on BBC4 tonight “Britain’s Outlaws, Highwaymen, Pirates, and Rogues” Part one of three.
It brought me back to the stories my grandmother used to tell me older brother and me by the fireside many years ago. A lot of the stories featured boys and men who “Went off the seek their fortune” This always gave me a feeling of reassurance that when I grew up and if all else failed I could always bugger off and seek my fortune, comforting that. Alas when I did grow up I hadn’t a clue where to start to seek my fortune, all the fortunes were spoken for by then.
Little did my innocent mind know at the time that all those we went of to seek their fortune usually robbed other poor unfortunates to find it. Today a ‘Fortune seeker’ is not a nice name to be called, not nice at all, strange how so many things change in the space of a lifetime.
The geezer who plumbed in my new consumer unit today was a fortune seeker, albeit a pleasant one, I guess I paid the current rate.
Spitty you should have said him “At least Dick Turpin had the decency to wear a mask”
Jem, as I age, I am more comfortable with Market Forces, what the heck is happening to me?
And that’s a good thing Spitty, you are now entering the ‘Couldn’t care less’ stage, believe me it makes everything a lot easier to handle, just another bonus that comes with age, praise the lord!
Transition is very difficult, is the Train really coming.
I’ve just finished me dinner and gorgeous it was too. They say the best way to a mans heart is through his stomach, maybe with some, I certainly wouldn’t like to hear a Surgeon saying that to his colleagues if I was lying on his table.:shock:
I don’t know about others but the best way to my heart was personally and a good sense of humour, looks are not everything in a woman, most decent chaps I knew as young men were scared of approaching the real stunners at a dance, some of the more daring types went all out to get a dance with them, then a date but the relationships never lasted very long I noticed, I sometimes think being a good looking girl can be a bit of a hindrance, What are looks if not the first page of a book, but by the same token I wouldn’t like to come back looking like Edward G Robinson after been stung by a wasp.
http://i736.photobucket.com/albums/xx4/jemflux/482.jpg
I haven’t any idea who this fella is, he came to me in a bunch of wallpaper photo’s the son send to me, an unusual statue don’t you think. He’s smiling so he must be one of those successful politicians who quit while he was a head.
Ha Ha
“Boom & Bust eh?”
“I don’t envy him or be green with envy. Her looks a headcase”
groan groan
I don’t mean to be Patina rising
I was sure you’d know who he was RJ, It’s starting to annoy me now, is he the patron saint of soup coolers?
Now and then there’s a lull in proceedings
A drop in posts and a fall in readings
Have they all gone off to prayer?
Or to feed the old grey mare
Taking a nap in the afternoon
They’ll all be back pretty soon
With more of this and less of that
Feeding us all with flowing chat
So sit your bum upon the chair
And bang the keyboard in despair
If you lost a dog or found a cat
Help is where the forum’s at
State your case for all it’s worth
We’re all polite and never curt.
Alright Perry Mason I know it’s night time now but it was this afternoon when I wrote it out.
Dunno who it is but…I found another one!
Tis Charlie Parker aka Bird 
The road sign is on the right so it must be USA .
Now how many GREEN celebrities were there recently?
Charlie Parker eh, a musician, can’t say I’ve heard of him, but thanks anyway Solo I was very curious to know.
Well I’m a fully fledged old fart now and proud of it, once you hit the 70 mark you receive your farternity badge and certificate, I got the cert from my son and as there are no badges available at the moment I will have to make me own, any suggestions as to what should be on it will be welcomed. The best thing about being an official old fart is there are no rules, the days of doing what others tell you are all behind you and you are free to make up your own rules as you go along, if anyone dares question you about rules you trump them all the time with “Was that a rule? sorry I must have forgotten” and you are absolved of all blame immediately, smashing ain’t it.
Jem. Never say you have forgotten. Or you will shop you off into an old fogies home saying you have dementia.
When you reach 70, you must always before getting out of bed, read the obituary page of your newspaper. If you are not in it, then you can get out of bed.