It is odd what we do, but only when "we know better", for at the time, it seemed the logical thing to do.
We used to have an open coal fire when we grew up. Mum would have her comments to us about the fairies dancing on the rear of the fire, i.e. the sparks creeping up the soot, magical.
Magic too was the draw when I was about six or seven, and I could put the poker into the fire and pull it out, glowing red and almost too hot to hold the handle end of it. How hot? come on boy, how hot is red hot? So, mum's safely lounging in the bath, and me with the fire, my fire. I pulled that poker out of the fire, it was nearly white hot and that is hot, so hot it burnt through all the flesh with a strange sickly smell, and stuck, so I had difficulty letting it go. I haven't done it since because, I know!
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