Sunday, August 12, 2007

Flamus Interruptus

We finally farewelled the pyre that has been accumulating in our back paddock last night. It was touch and go, due in no small part to gusty breezes which made igniting such a big fire dangerous but as predicted, the breeze dropped, copious amounts of petrol soaked toilet paper led to a spectacular flare and the heavy drinking and revelry began. No problems, a reasonable sized crowd, a well mown surround to the embers and rakes and hose at the ready. All went well until about 12:30 when three men, dressed in large black jackets and baggy pants wearing funny hats and reflectors walked down from the road at the top of our paddock. Normally, I would have been concerned about gate-crashers but the flashing lights on their big red truck was a give-away. Some doogoody suburban scumbag had called the fire brigade!

Now by rights, I should have had a permit to burn 'flammable refuse' but this year I didn't bother. Apparently the rules have changed and any burn is now controlled by NSW fire brigade (Real firemen with bigger trucks and more flashy lights) not the Rural Fire Service. Such is the encroachment of the burbs on our little haven.

Unlike the firemen which appear in those calendars, two were young and handsome, the third, a big frosty fella who took the dim view. Obviously a quiet night at Kellyville Fire Station. So, I stood there for 20 minutes as the 'responsible' adult (Shit we were all adults, there wasn't a person under 20 in sight) and copped a hammering from Fireman Sam about putting house fires out and there being no signs of a fire hazard around the place. How he could see in the dark still amazes me as the fire was by now a steaming heap of blackness and there's no fire hazard material around the place because we just sent it to hell and back on the fucking bonfire! Patronising shite.

Anyway, it all ended well. The remaining embers were doused, the girls had their photos taken with the two handsome ones and I went to bed angry at my friggin neighbours.

3 comments:

Absolute Vanilla (and Atyllah) said...

You should buy your firemen a calendar of those other firemen, just so they know how they're supposed to look!

Grandad said...

Dammit! If I have a bonfire, the Morality Police come out and claim I'm causing Global Warming and fine me God knows how much.

It seems to escape them that they have contributed more pollution themselves just by driving over.

Rock On! You can't beat a good blaze. [and stick a few potatoes in the hot ashes - they bake beautifully :) ]

Baino said...

Aww it was all safe really, hoses, rakes, well mown and bang slap in the middle of a 2 acre paddock. Just nervous burby neighbours over the back - when we first lit it, went up like a bomb so prolly scared the poor little possums shitless. Took the firies 4 hours to get there . . .glad it wasn't my house! They couldn't pin anything on us other than the fact we didn't have a permit. I'll get them next year Gadget!