To whomever resurrected this thread thank you, as it's coming into summer now. The old girl, who's now just past 27 and cooks a joint as well as the day she was born, looked at me quizzically today when I stoked her up on our first decent warm weekend. I couldn't resist the sweetheart as the pool was sparkling, the beer was cold, the butcher had cut me a great roast, and we were kicking the crap out of the Poms at the cricket.
She looked at me, because it's been a long romance, and said 'promise me you'll never leave me and will never, ever be a
gasser; you know that would break my heart. Please tell me that you are not going to trade me in on a younger model; a trophy BBQ?'
It's been a clandestine romance: my wife suspects, but doesn't really know; although Miss Red has been with us for so many postings - she's done two overseas.
I looked at her and said 'do you honestly think that I'm like BEagle, who doesn't just entertain the thought of drinking
VB, he actually does it?'
When you see a
VB in my hand, which is never going to happen, then start worrying about me being a
gasser and you getting traded in.'