There we were cruising along on the way home, me driving and the boss up in the turret, when there's a loud cry of 'conflagration!' The boss has obviously been playing too many word games on her iPad, a cry of fire would have done quite easily but obviously there are more points for thirteen letters.
One of our local farmers had decided to burn his 'brash' heap and apparently the conditions were perfect. A steady south westerly wind had been drying out the wood and orchard trimmings so the firelighters, three small bales of straw, were inserted and we were away.
A one match blaze, brilliant and in this case literally.
The fire is still burning over twentyfour hours later so perhaps we should roast some potatoes.