Our house used to belong to an old lady, who lived in it with her family for a very long time, and who has since moved to a village outside the city. She bricked up the fireplace in the sitting room, which we duly unbricked, and renovated with the expertise of our ninja builder, John. It has been restored to its wood-burning glory of decades past; the eighty-year-old bricks at the back are black from use.
The morning after, I have to sweep the old bricks. (The soot and remainder of the logs make good fertiliser, which I sprinkle around the base of some of our fruit trees in the garden.)
There is always a low howling sound in the chimney... but the time referred to in the haiku... that was a bit different.
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Our house used to belong to an old lady, who lived in it with her family for a very long time, and who has since moved to a village outside the city. She bricked up the fireplace in the sitting room, which we duly unbricked, and renovated with the expertise of our ninja builder, John. It has been restored to its wood-burning glory of decades past; the eighty-year-old bricks at the back are black from use.
The morning after, I have to sweep the old bricks. (The soot and remainder of the logs make good fertiliser, which I sprinkle around the base of some of our fruit trees in the garden.)
There is always a low howling sound in the chimney... but the time referred to in the haiku... that was a bit different.
There is no Hobbes. Only Zuul.
You need some Stay Puft's for your fire.
The next time someone asks if you're a god - you say yes.
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