Well I love mine. Only lit with seasoned oak and birch, when damp and cold. I like the ritual of cleaning, screwing up the newspaper and putting on the sticks, sitting by it while it gets going. I do know they are polluters , but I don't have a car, and haven't flown for nearly forty years, so this is my little luxury.
Love my 'log man' who delivers, every November, six builders bags from his own woodland a few miles away. In fact this is my Christmas present to myself, and we both laugh that I'm so easily pleased!
I love to put on a bit of copper wire, then see the lovely blue and green flames.
Ah dear - why does getting older equate to dimished brain power?
Craig and Lindsay Foreman end their hunger strike in prison in Iran.
