Underneath the Lintel. Literally.

Ah yes, not only the title of a superb one man play by Glen Berger, but also a previously unseen view of inside Millbrooker Towers.

As I sit and write this drivel from the steam-driven laptop's temporary home on the first floor, there is much rattling and and banging going on immediately outside the window as a brace of scaffolders erect a small tower. Soon, upon that very tower, Mr B's 'umble assistant will clamber to our chimney pot to lower a flue liner into its dark depths.

But, before that momentous event in the history of our very own historic (well, it's Georgian) erection, some more prep work has taken place.

Mr B came around and plonked a lintel into the chimney breast. Here's the very smart new pre-stressed concrete log that Mr B gently inserted into the hole.

Not long after that bit of work, our own Jah Cousteau was once again pressed into action and the hearth was well and truly dug out ready to be concreted with proper damp proofing.

And now, finally, the money shot as advertised in the title of this bit of nonsense. I stuck the camera underneath the lintel and pointed upwards. So here, for your delight, is the inside of the Millbrooker Towers chimney flue number 2 which will soon be lined so as to be usable by our little log burner. No small boys are in evidence, but we're thinking of a youth employment scheme to match Mr Cameron's "Big Society" idea; just doing our bit, you know. Oh please, do try to contain your excitement.