A few words from Rob Mansfield

Took this the other night over some bloke’s shoulder.

So he’s watching The Big Lebowski on his iPod, checking his Blackberry every 30 seconds AND has his regular mobile on his lap as well, just in case he needs to use his third ear!

I know we live in the 21st century, but this is a little bit ridiculous!

We’ve just been away for a week to lovely Ludlow, the slowest town in the country - now famed for its culinary delights, even though many of the original leading lights have left.

Ludlow is a wonderful example of a market town - we saw 5 markets while we were there of varying types - filled with old timber buildings and plaques at every turn detailing which Earl or other nobleman used to own the building.

Our accommodation was a garden flat in an old building, next to the town’s main arts centre, the Assembly Rooms, just off the main Market Square - all creaky floorboards, old wooden furniture and a teeny bathroom.

The piece de resistance of the flat was the kitchen, though. As you see can on the left, there was what looks like a wardrobe in the main room. Useful for storing our clothes in, we thought.

From the side, the wardrobe looked pretty normal, but no, we were very wrong. The wardrobe/cupboard was actually our flat’s kitchen - see below.

Hidden behind the doors was a Baby Belling, a mini sink and draining board, plus a microwave, kettle and toaster. Not to mention cutlery, kitchen bin, crockery, pans, etc…

Ingenious, yes, but why on earth couldn’t the landlady have just put in a little counter. Believe me, it gets really annoying to have to open a wardrobe door just to turn on the kettle, turn on a tap or out something in the bin!

As I was putting my little girl to bed this evening, I smelt a barely recognisable odour - eau de bonfeu! Yes, one of our neighbours seemed to be conflagrating (made-up word?) some things.

As a kid, a bonfire was a weekly event in our garden and most of our neighbours. I have fond memories of dragging twigs, branches and leaves to the bottom of the garden, scrunching up newspaper and shoving it at the bottom and then lighting the aforementioned copies of the Daily Mail (best thing for it, I hear you cry) and watching the bonfire take hold.

Inevitably, it would start to smoke as the leaves smothered the flames and no matter where I stood, the smoke would follow me and make my eyes stream. Add to that the smell that lingered for a long while - infecting clothes and filling the house, even after the washing machine had done its business.

But fast forward 30 years and bonfires seem to have gone out of fashion. Maybe as gardening becomes fashionable once again with families desperate to find cheap weekend activities, the weekly bonfire movement will grow.

I know there was a call for it to be culled because it was bad for the environment, but given that people still seem to leave supermarkets loaded down with plastic bags, I can’t believe this was the only green initiative that actually made sense to the general public.

Bonfires make me wistful for my youth and I’d like to see and smell a few more. Here’s hoping!