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Don't try this at homeAt our bonfire night party the fireworks start early when we decide to roast Sweet Chestnuts in the oven without going to the trouble of pricking holes in the shells. A dozen of them go off one after the other, making muffled thuds, as if logs are dropping on the roof. Superheated pulp sprays the inside of the oven, which we'd cleaned only last week.One of our guests, our wildlife photographer friend John, a man who is never without his Leatherman all-in-one tool, takes on the tricky task of defusing them by piercing the shells. He's done all but the last, when it goes off, spraying wall, cupboard, even the ceiling, and squirting him in the eye. They taste delicious.
Redwings by NightOur guests hear the calls of Redwings flying over the garden in the darkness. I can't pick them up at all.'You must have heard that! It sounds like a squeaking gate!' Actually it's higher-pitched than a squeaky gate and beyond my range, as I've lost the upper frequencies of my hearing. When I had a check up a few years ago, the specialist asked if I worked in industry. He said that I have a form of partial deafness typical of people who work in noisy environments. It's too late to worry about it now, but I wonder whether it was a result of the only punk rock concert I ever attended, a concert so loud that you heard the 'music' as vibrations in your stomach. Or was it the paint sprayer I used to use without ear protection? . . . or all those nights in the disco at the end of the Abba era? If I could have my life again Redwings in the night would win over punk rock every time!
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