When is it ok to lie to your wife? When there is a blonde involved?

Well, I haven't actually lied to Jane. She hasn't asked the question, and I haven't given the answer. Let me explain: but toast and a coal fire are involved.

We arrived at our cottage in Rosthwaite, Borrowdale, Lake District, this evening: it was bitterly cold, with snow on the hills. So the usual pattern prevails: having been the driver, I have most excuse for a rest, but no , our girls find other things to do, such as check that wifi is working on their phones…so I make the majority of the journeys needed to unload the car. Cold is too warm a word for it: freezing.

So, unpacked, into the lounge, and I thought I would try to light our coal fire…having never managed before in all the years we have had the cottage. But, in this case, my sister in law Sarah, knowing that I can't light a fire (and yes, teenagers, I have watched some 'how to' videos on YouTube) had set the fire up for us at the end of her last visit, kinding and coal all neatly stacked, so all I had to do was strike a match.

Result, a great fire, and the chance for the first time in well over forty years to make toast on an open fire.

So, when I told Jane I had got the fire working, she believed me. Two good things about this: (I) every word I said to her is true; (II) she doesn't read my blogs.

Even better, the toast was excellent, though at this rate of open-fire-toasting, I will be 95 the next time.

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