The big bonfire of my childhood didn't quite go as planned. Very little sentimental hording, but it's rained since thirty seconds after I carried all the rubbish to bottom of the garden. As soon as I turned around to go and get the matches. So I've spent the evening burning (some of) it on the living room fire. And myself. Lesson One : Do Not Touch Hot Things Like Stoves. It Hurts. Even IF You Didn't Mean To. And it hurts just as much the second time.




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