This is our fire pit. And it’s our first fire in the backyard. We ate hot soup and fresh bread by the fire for tea.
It’s a perfect evening for an outdoor fire. It’s Friday night, there’s no wind, and a clear sky with lots of stars.
The fire pit itself is made of a large metal dish with a tiny hole in the bottom – in case it rains and water needs to escape. It sits on a frame about a foot off the ground. Unfortunately Meyles’ precious grass got scorched, so that’s something we’ll have to manage in the future. It gives off heat underneath, as well as the obvious on-top-type heat, very effectively.
We have stocked up on fire starters, heat beads and wood, but tonight we used broken up a bits of wood from a pine palette that carried our house tiles from 2 years ago. Meyles bashed up wood with a hammer because our axe is still packed away in boxes somewhere and we don’t know which box! But Meyles is building cupboards in the garage so we can unpack all the ‘shed stuff’ in the fullness of time.
The cat likes the fire and demanded his own chair be pulled up close by for His Majesty to curl up asleep in. He was very spoilt tonight to be allowed outside after dark instead of kept inside. But we knew he wouldn’t leave the fire, and we were right.
Even smoke smells nice. The smells evoked memories from when we were both kids and our families would cook damper with butter and honey, or jaffles and we both agreed that tomato in a jaffle is deadly because it’s so hot it burns your lips. Baked potatoes, and apples and the taste of charcoal combined with heat and mess.
There is something quite therapeutic about being warmed by a friendly fire, with flames dancing in the dark. It’s very watchable. Soothing. Wholesome somehow. 
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