PINS - Rule Thirty-six: Backing up

(Those plough furrows are Napoleonic, not older.)

Newcastle is a spacious, extended, infinitely populous place; ’tis seated on the River Tyne, which is here a noble, large and deep river, and ships of any reasonable burthen may come safely up to the town. As the town lies on both sides of the river, the parts are joined by a very strong and stately stone bridge of seven very great arches, rather larger than the arches of London Bridge and the bridge is built into a street of houses also, as London Bridge is… Here is a large hospital built by contribution of the keel men by way of friendly society, for the maintenance of the poor of their fraternity and I think your father was born there - if it wasn’t there it was Forth Banks, but in any case the family once ran the Egypt Cottage through Rose Baggaley (b. 1863) who married Jack “Egypt Cottage” Evans and they organised races on the river. Their two daughters, Maude and Lily, were great friends of Nana (I think I used to see them often on Rectory Road and they stayed often until the 1950s). Their brother was killed in the Great War, maybe in Gaza, or so we think.

Before we get ahead of ourselves it’s worth remembering that in PINS, when you’re rallying round, it’s good to know who is on your side. Even if your back ups have long passed away, you can still invoke their memory and they’ll come to back you up. It’s no joke! You had that when your great great Uncle Lawrence started talking through your mouth to your sleeping partner. You had the tall man with the blond hair, standing next to you, when you had the operation. He was foreign, and very very old. But very kind, he looked out for you! You remember when Charlie came down in a shaft of yellow and silver light when you were watching the television in the back room and said, I’m going now, old girl. It’s time to say goodbye for now. And you’ve seen what happened when your uncle, who had a certain reputation, couldn’t go upstairs, for Fright of the Dead! It’s good to have your great great relatives guarding the house.

Remember when you tell about these back ups, you can’t joke, no, that’s for Heathens and idiots from the big cities like Leeds or Manchester who don’t understand that this is serious stuff and that the White Farm House was probably in your family around Doomsday. It’s at the end of the path before you get to the church and just past the industrial estate. Or that others of your immediate family were laid out dead from mining disasters, in the local pub you are now sat in. Or that there is a warning in the church porch to one of your very bad relatives from back in the 1800s. No, these city folk don’t know, they’re just numb, and think they’re special. They think they’re the bees knees in Manchester. Full of themselves.

Some of the family were in service, you know. They knew how to rally round and get on with it. And that’s probably why you are so handy at lighting the fire. Lighting a good fire with a few sticks and some coal is a skill. Some people just can’t do that properly. I let the lads have a go now and then, but that’s one of my roles; doing the breakfast, getting the bread and meat, and lighting the fire. Oh, and getting the leaf mould.

Now what you need to do is clean the grate. Use the chrome plate brush in the coal set that’s standing on the hearth. Take care not to brush too hard, and sweep all the bits sitting on the grate and on the inner hearth into the ash dump bin that’s under the grating. 

You can wipe the hearth down with a bit of damp kitchen roll to get any loose dust. But DON’T put it into the ash dump bin. Just ash goes in there, or the council’ll be round, playing hell. You have to bin that separately.

Now, take the two parts of the grate off and place them carefully on the hearth - it’s getting worn from a lot of fires, but it is from the 1950s - and lift out the ash bin carefully. Shout to your mother to get out the way - shout, I have the ash! Ash coming through! Wear some old slippers when doing this - don’t have big clunking shoes on as you may trip and then it's the end of the world!

Put the ash in the ash bin, next to the coal bunker. For God's sake be careful when you tip it as it goes bloody everywhere. Even when there’s a small bit of wind.

Bring back the ash bin and put it back in the pit and put the grate over it, you have to juggle the two pieces of the grate in a way that they sit right. You’ll learn how to do it. Make sure they sit well behind the fender, where the control is to open the grate, to get a blaze up. Now, get some paper and some of that kindling we got from the garden centre behind the cricket club. Scrunch the paper up lengthways! And put bits of kindle around it. Gently go and fill the coal scuttle, use that scoop we’d use for the cat litter when the cats were alive, and don’t get coal dust on yourself. DON’T put the bloody scuttle in the bunker as you get more dust on the outside and it gets everywhere.

Warn your mother when you are coming through with the scuttle.

When you’ve got the coal here, place some coals around the paper and on top of the kindle. 

Don’t put too many pieces in, and knock the control to the right with the poker; you need the fire to blaze up and these coals to get hot.    

Now, make sure your feet are clean and go to the kitchen and under the sink you’ll find the zippo fire lighters. Two sticks is enough. Put one down by each side of the paper against the chimney wall, near the kindling.

Go and get the metal guard for the fire from out by the back door. The one I welded a handle on, it’s burnt through but it still works if you put a bit of newspaper over the gap.

Now KEEP THE DOOR OPEN to get a draft up. 

Once you’ve got the guard, light the fire with those safety matches and let it get going. Then  put the guard over the fire, prop it on the fender and add a sheet of newspaper over the burnt hole, and it should really get the blaze up. DON’T TOUCH the guard for at least five minutes, those coals need to catch! But watch your hands as the metal gets hot. Go and get an old rag from the shed for your hands.

Keep an eye on it as it roars, once it looks like the roar is dying down, take away the guard and add a few pieces of coal. And maybe a log from those we got up by Chatburn.  And shut the door!

An accompanying post to this Rule, with relevant illustrations, can be found in the Museum of Photocopies.