This week I'll be mostly making coal fires

"Put some coal on the fire
so I can keep my poker hot"
- Peter Green 1968

In January 1996, (when Sam was 1 and Abbie wasn't born yet), there was The Terrible Incident of the Pathetic Coal Fire. We were on holiday in Stow-on-the-Wold, in a draughty old grade II listed cottage with single-glazed windows, and no central heating. It was snowing outside. We were ill and cold and grumpy. There was a complimentary bucket of coal left outside the back door where it was getting nice and damp, waiting for any unsuspecting holiday guests to get so desperate that they might try to make a fire with it. Sure enough, we got so desperate that we tried to make a fire with it. Sure enough, there occurred The Terrible Incident of the Pathetic Coal Fire.

We vowed to never make a coal fire again.

In January 1997, there was The Wonderful Incident of the Glorious Wood Fire. We were on holiday in Penrith, in a fairly cosy barn conversion. It was snowing outside. There was a complimentary wood pile and a saw and axe outside the back door which was getting nice and damp, waiting for any unsuspecting holiday guests to decide it would be quaint to chop some up and make a fire with it. Sure enough, we decided it would be quaint to chop some up and make a fire with it... But the chopping and sawing was a bit hard going, and not holiday-like in the slightest, so I jumped in the car and nipped down to a service station on the M6 that sold bags of wood (on what turned out to be a 40 mile round trip, but that's another story). Sure enough, there occurred The Wonderful Incident of the Glorious Wood Fire.

We decided that wood fires are definitely the way to go.

In October 2005, we moved into a house that needed the wood burner to be running almost constantly to get the heating going. By the time we moved out of there we'd got wood fires down to an art form.

Shortly before Christmas last year, there were The Constantly Irritating Incidents of the Mediocre Wood Fires. We knew when we moved into our current abode that it would be a bit cold in the winter, but were quite looking forward to getting the fire going in the chilly evenings. A wood fire, of course. Now maybe this Jersey wood isn't up to the high standards of our old Devon wood, but the fires have been a bit poor. For Christmas, to be on the safe side, we splashed out on a couple of those instant lighting coal bags that you get down the petrol station. They worked a treat. "Hmmm. Coal. Interesting."

(You'll be pleased to know, we are almost getting to the point now.)

In January this year, we bought a couple of bags of coal to "give it a go". I wasn't convinced, until one evening I came home in the snow and ice and managed to nurture a slightly glowing bit of mostly burnt kindling and a couple of pieces of broken coal into The Most Magnificent Coal Fire There Has Ever Been. Since then, I have been totally won over by the idea of a coal fire. As Andy Williams would sing if he were here: "The weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful."