Reputation Preceeds Me
I had a phone call this morning reminding me that this was the perfect week to hide my abyssmal firestarting skills. What better than bonfire night (week) to hide a terribly smokey attempt at a fire/smouldering embarassment?
Having received much advice of the paraffin/petrol variety, I thought I was assured a bonfire of truly gargantuan proportions.
I ran to the plot to escape a tortuous day of accounting boredom, and nipped into Homebase for supplies of accelerant and kindling.
On the plot, just shy of nightfall I thought I’d make some attempt at weeding, it was a bit dark and soggy though, so I could only manage a neat impersonation of a row of weeds. Thorough hand weeding is probably required at a later date.
I started by soaking one of my old and grotty race t-shirts in paraffin and them piling it with kindling and my driest specimens of blight infested tomatoes. With application of a handfull of lit matches, most of my dreams came true as the plot errupted into a fantastical show of light.
I was immediately concerned that I wouldn’t have enough fuel to feed this monster so started looking around for tinder. I admit to glancing at the shed but in the nick of time I remembered the trauma of the erection debacle and shifted my attention towards semi-combustable material left on discarded plots.
You may wish to substitute the phrase “semi-combustable material” with the word asbestos. No sooner had I built a sky-scraper of collected junk than the inferno sputtered it’s final breath. With a dead fire I found myself left with a pile of debris considerably taller than the one I’d started with. If I’d had any sense I would have returned the pitiful kindling back to the originating plots but instead I started splashing paraffin in a willy-nilly fashion and blowing on the embers until I became intoxicated.
Thank god it was dark, I was providing so much entertainment for the commuters on the adjacent railway platform that I can only be grateful that they would never recognise me again.


















Sounds like something that would happen around here.
At least it was dark so you were well disguised. There is something wonderful about starting a fire on the allotment – though rules and recycling have removed most of the opportunities.
I’m tagging you with Green Meme #1:
http://living-away.blogspot.com/2008/12/green-meme-1.html