Autumn is upon us.
Autumn, the season of axe-murderers.
Dragging his axe along the towpath, through the smoke from boat stoves.
It is high time that the Cardinal added his own stove-smoke to the others.
It is the law.
Six inches less flue, mayhap two or three inches more coolie hat than hitherto.
Besides, I needs must sometime test the new chimney. I have tested all of my smoke and CO alarms, and they spoke to me in the language of beeps and horrid, automated voices.
Question is, can I remember how to make Man’s red fire?
Can I remember how to keep Man’s red fire going?
To the super-tech of sucking power from the nearest star with the solar panels it is the season in which I must add low-tech, the releasing of heat from dinosaur bones dug from deep in the ground. Contrast el mucho, or what?
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