The sun waited until we were almost home from our damp and dismal stroll yesterday before finally deciding that maybe it would come out to play. As we walked up towards the field gate back onto our Lane the weather brightened considerably, the temperature must have warmed by several degrees, and I felt distinctly overdressed. One of our neighbours failed to appreciate the sudden warming of the day, and clearly put another log on the wood burner, and a trail of wood smoke floated from her chimney towards Croft Hill, no doubt providing a seasonal smell to walkers on the Hill. With no mains gas on the Lane most of our neighbours, as well as ourselves, burn wood to supplement the expensive heating oil used for our central heating. Actually, having smelled the smoke from this particular neighbour’s chimney before, I suspect that her fire is fuelled by best nutty slack, a cheap and cheerful variety of coal. Maybe the walkers on Croft Hill experienced an odour more reminiscent of the Victorian steam age.
