I Assumed He Knew What He Was Doing

I've just been out to close in the hens and their shed appears to be on fire! Thankfully it wasn't.

I spoke to Hannah.

Do you realise he's got a bonfire going a metre from the hen house?

Yeah. I assumed he knew what he was doing.

Bert spoke to me.

Why are you taking pictures?

So if the hen house burns down I can blog about it.

Sure, what do you know about bonfires?

Not much. I've little experience of them. It wasn't me burned down next door's garage*.  Anyway, stop adding stuff to it.

I thought you wanted this area cleared.

Me? Not really. Think of all the poor wee invertebrates dying in there. They thought they were living their best lives. 

That stung. I could see the look of regret on his face. He'd forgotten about the beetles and earthworms etc. I was nearly sorry I'd brought it up.

Anyways, I decided not to close the hens in after all, just in case.

A Postscript

* For fear of retribution Bert did not admit that sixteen years ago, on a very windy evening a stray ember from one of his bonfires might well have blown over to the derelict property beside us. It might have settled in the eaves of the garage (stacked with empty and half-empty paint tins). Maybe there was an old bird's nest in there, that caught alight,  maybe it dropped to the floor, found some dry timber, started a blaze.

Doesn't matter now, especially since that garage has since been demolished by a passing vandal with a mini-digger. We'll never know. It's a mystery.

Now there are rumours that the property has been bought by a developer in which case we might eventually have close neighbours. Ugh! Bert says,

You never know. They might be the best neighbours in the world.