Never knowingly scabbed

The dustbin incinerator I bought the other week has been brilliant as I’ve burnt off a load of woody stuff that has been piling up at the bottom of the garden. The only trouble is, that making fires is now getting a bit addictive. The other Saturday I was just going to burn off a small pile of waste but as the fire got on it’s way I was scouring the garden for sticks, prunings and whatever else that would burn. A couple of bits of 4 x 2 I was going for use for a gardening project got chucked in alongside wet leaves and freshly cut wood, sending thick plumes of yellow/white smoke out of the funnel at the top of the bin into the SE23 night sky. Jah Wobble mentions the same thing in his biography “memoirs of a geezer”, breaking up furniture at a friend’s squat he lived at to fuel a fire to keep him warm. What’s all that about then, a primeval thing perhaps?