Two fire trucks and five National Grid guys later, we discover that our gas line is not ... oh dear ... up to code where it connects to the house.
Except that it is up to code, at least according to the building inspector.
But he's not the gas company.
And the gas company can turn off the gas.
Something is fishy here.
Anyway, the long and the short of it is, we need to sink a new gas line. We've got about an inch and a half through which to run the pipe (the house has no basement). The people who do this for a living are here now, and the initial signs are not encouraging.
On the bright side, those are the apples I picked this morning. They are sweeter than they appear, with a sort of macintosh-like flavor, but crisper. So. They are
