In the 1970s, heating was abysmal. Other poverty measures weren’t much better. Imagine heating a home with a two bar fire, a paraffin heater or a portable gas heater, if you were fortunate. The race home from school to get close to a broken fire before my father got home was a challenge. It was often a choice between food or heat.

A two bar fire for a family of six

Rin to the fire, rin to the fire, rin to the fire, old stoakin

Hopefully two bars, probably one, I hope its no still broken

A two bar fire for a family of six, takin turn and turns aboot

Meltin jaikits and burning thighs, threatening to electrocute

Maybe the convection will work this time, I’ve got my fingers crossed

While I wait for that to kick in, I make some tea and toast

Crack the bars up, from one to two, when its working, it’s a bit of a novelty

A two bar fire for a family of six, at least you’ve got it, nowhere near poverty

Turn the sounds on, turn the dial, from Radio 2, to more my scene

Grills burning, toasts on fire, gotta get the cooker clean

Kettle whistles, tea bag used again, lookin for the milk

There’s a space for a fridge, where the washins kept, milk chills on the window sill

Time for a quick No.6, no lighter, no match, I’ll try the bar of the fire

Sticks like a leach, burns like a sparkler, starts to unfurl the wire

From two bars, to one, its goosed, I’m getting it in the ear.

A one bar fire for a family of six, we need an engineer

There’s a key in the door, the miners home, after ten hours down a pit

He’ll smell the burning, the melting, the No.6, which I throw out the window still lit

Inhaling on arrival, he quizzically asks, whats burning, I suggest the toast

Not knowing which one of todays failures, he’ll rise to the most

It’ll not be a two bar fire for a family of six, so lets not pretend

A two bar fire for a family of six, every winter was discontent

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R G Robb © 2021