There are many differences between living in Lymington and Olde Londone Towne, not least that you don’t have to add an ‘e’ to the end of everything just to make it sound interesting. That aside, I don’t recall setting fire to much when we lived in the Big Smoke. Kinda ironic when you think about it. Down here it’s not what you call an everyday occurrence until the clocks go back, the nights draw in and the icy blast of storms herald another bitter winter. OK maybe that’s a tad over the top, especially this autumn, but allow some poetic licence please!  Then it’s simply a matter of where to get logs from for the log-burning stove. Now regular readers of this irregular blog will know I’m not exactly a backwoods man, but even I can take a hint as to what fuel a log-burning stove uses.

As good fortune would have it, my sister had the sense to marry someone who is currently employed chopping down trees, grinding stumps and generally creating logs for our stove. Result. Since he also cuts hedges and does other remarkably green type things, we normally get a visit late autumn from the entire family with a large trucky thing full of logs which gets exchanged for a trucky thing full of hedge clippings. Can’t see why this sort of thing hasn’t caught on. Shame they live in Surrey Dorking Tree Surgeons.

All that was needed to safely ignite said logs was someone to sweep the chimney. Wife suggested it could be me as I had accidentally purchased a chimney brush when I bought an extending drain cleaning jobbie from B&Q. Don’t ask, it was while the MiL was still with us and is best not discussed. Anyways when unwrapped it also had a circular brush which could be attached to the same extendible shaft. Obviously it had seemed like a natural pairing by someone at B&Q head office, maybe there had been a greater than normal chimney brush bristle harvest and they badly need to get rid of the excess. Hmm, bad enough typing that, wouldn’t want to have to say it aloud quickly. One thing I have learnt about DIY’ing things of which you know nothing, the phrase ‘a little knowledge is a dangerous thing’ was written for it. A professional chimney sweep was required.

Fortunately it’s not hard to get a chimney sweep in Lymington, getting an appointment suggested that many other people don’t think of getting their chimney swept until they want to set fire to something. In the end the Big Yellow Monster rolled up, an impressive 4×4 stating it’s business very clearly on the side. Fortunately Barry the efficient sweep refrained from saying ‘Cor blimey Mary Poppins’ even once in my hearing, reported all fine and having used the biggest Henry I’ve ever seen (Henry the eighth?) to keep the soot issue an non-issue, departed. Maybe to a wedding or other significant social event since the business card clearly stated that attendance at weddings was all part of the service. It also states that there is a Guild of Master Sweeps, one can only imagine what their Christmas party is like.

Sorry, couldn’t resist. Anyway if you need Dick Van Dyke Barry we finally got him on 610221.

So as the BBC sound effects wind howls around the house, we hunker down, wait for the thaw and practice wassailing, whatever that is.