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In oor livingroom, we have an ancient Doric solid fuel stove. Made, I am guessing, around the 1930`s, we inherited it from Auld Maggies uncle when he died, and it was auld then. Made by the Wellstood company in Bonnybridge, it was, and I think they are the same folks wha made the Esse stove.
It stands there, set oot frae the wall, like a battle scarred auld warrior. The enamel on it, a kind o` salmon pink, has seen better days. The damper hood on it rattles in a draught and on becalmed days wi` nae wind, it billows smoke oot intae the room so we hae tae offset the heat wi` opening a` the windows and doors so we can breathe.
It doesnae gie us ony hot water, for it`s no` plumbed in and has nae back boiler. All it does, is heat this one room.
But I love it for a` that.
In a power cut, we cook on and in the oven o` it. That in itself is a chancy, hit and miss affair, much depending on the type o` coal we use, what way the wind blows, and how long the fire has been roaring up the lum.
But on that stove top I have made drop scones wi` me auld fashioned girdle, stir fries, soups and stews, and in the single, wee oven, have made casseroles that scent the air wi` delicious mooth watering smells on cauld, dreary days, and cakes and buns, scones and mair....
So I love me auld stove.
It even dries me washing...I hae nae time for one o` they expensive tumble drier things....they cost ower too much money and dinnae get jeans properly dry onyway. I hae a pulley ower the stove, one o` they auld fashioned things wi` four bars on it that we haul up and doon. I put me washing on it if I cannae hang it ootside, and haul it up, and the heat frae the fire dries it a` in nae time at a`.
I mind me granny and me mam doing just the same thing.

In oor bedroom though, we`ve an open fire, a wee Victorian fireplace it is, wi` tiles aroond it and a wee fire basket set intae what wis once a huge big hole in the wa` fireplace. There is nae damper on it. The firebricks o` the Victorian fire only go up intae the lum a couple o` feet. So the draw on the thing is something that needs tae be seen tae be believed!
And though it is rare and bonny tae sit, on a wild nicht, in front o` the fire, the coals glowing just nicely while the wind rages ootside, toasting oor feet and hands, it eats the coal like a big hungry beast! So lighting that fire is kept just for thon times there is onybody sick in bed, or when we`re a bit better off and can afford the almost five bags o` coal a week it eats.
So most days, the fire is left off. And many o` those days, a starling decides tae come doon oor lum tae pay us a visit. I am sure it`s the same, daft bird that does it. I walk past the bedroom door and hear the fluttering o` its wings against the window, and the cheepcheep o` it crying tae get oot. Then I get a towel frae the kitchen, and go in and catch the wee besom afore it dashes it`s brains oot against the glass o` the window.
So I`ve had time tae study the wee thing. And have come tae the conclusion that either all starlings are clones, or it`s the same daft bird keeps coming doon oor lum!
I tak` it ootside and let it go, always wi` a word tae the wise, that one o` these days it`ll come doon the lum and the fire`ll be on! But judging on its behaviour, it isnae in the mood for listening.

When oor goats kid, usually near this time o` year, sometimes the nan will no tak` tae mothering. One day we came back frae the shops tae find one newborn wee kid dumped in the water bucket by her mam, who was standing nearby happily munching her hay and ignoring the pleading bleats. So I scooped the kid up, dried it in a towel and was dismayed tae see her near pegging oot. She was barely conscious by that time.
Nothing for it but tae wrap her in a warmed towel and pop her in the Doric oven, wi` the door open so I could keep an eye on her.
After making sure it wasnae ramping...I wasnae really wanting roast goatkid at that time...in she went, and sure enough, after half an hour, she perked up just fine and survived tae become a fine wee goat, the pride o` them a`.
Trouble is, for the first wee while, she thought she was a dog. This is because the collie we had at the time, a huge Rough/Border cross, took ower caring for her and treated her like a pup. So the goatkid took to following me and the dog aroond like one.
And she still has a liking for the heat! Whenever she came intae the hoose, she would head straight for the Doric...we usually hae the oven door open for heat...and just stand there, wi` her head inside the oven, eyes blissfully closed, just basking in the heat. I hae a picture o` that on me pc that I will try and post at some point when I can figure oot how.
And that Doric oven has revived chicks, lambs and kittens tae....so I hae a great deal o` respect for that auld, battle scarred warrior o` a stove. It`s naewhere near as shiny new or as big as a Rayburn nor as posh as an Aga, and I don`t think they even mak` the brand o` Doric ony mair....but it`s earned its place in oor hame.
And nae birds come doon the lum wi` it either!