We've got a burner

Yesterday I worked like a dog. Well, probably more like a beaver really. Fetching and carrying wood and fashioning it into a sort of dam between us and out next door neighbours. One of the fantastic things about having to replace any fencing is the fact that there will usually be copious amounts of old fencing that will need to be disposed of. If you are mindful of your carbon footprint then this produces one of those big dilemmas that could stump even the most hard lined ‘Swampy’ eco warriors of; do you drive to the tip or burn? If you choose the tip you will be using natural resources, releasing wildlife into your car, then having to explain to your insurance company why after the obligatory emergency stop when a death watch beetle drops into your lap at The Bowl roundabout and the 5 foot, 3 by 3 fence post relocates via your windscreen into a family of passing Slovaks.
OR, as is my want.... Have a big bonfire. Yes this must be the preferred route for the modern man in touch with his cavemen roots. A big burn up, roasting and toasting the old until it is nothing more than ash and some rusty nails. So as the shadow lengthened and the light dimmed I sat contemplating life, staring into the embers of our previous ‘overlap’ fence with a beer in my hand and a thought to simpler times. This took me back to a number of fine evenings when in the company of my other band members we would shoot beer bottles off the roof of the Kitson shed whilst harmonising until dawn (Sorry, that last bit was a line from Simon and Garfunkel tune) Anyway there is few finer pleasures than being slightly intoxicated and char grilling your boots under a crescent moon. You can quote me on that!