Man make fire

I remember barbecues from days gone by, where the lads would be fascinated by the making of fire and the singeing of meat.

These days only the dog and cat are interested.

And to be honest, the cat wasn’t that bothered.

Until, of course, the food’s ready and all three lads fall on it like locusts, before buggering off again.

Still, Mo and I stayed in the garden for ages enjoying the warmth of the evening.