ONE of the most intriguing stories on the horizon this week has to be the £370,000 ‘efficiencies’ suggested for the new Penketh fire station, before it has even opened.

Before the UK took on austerity as a way of life, Cheshire Fire and Rescue always planned to have ‘whole-time’ (or full-time) fire crews staffing their fledgling site, supported by on-call staff at night, living nearby.

Under a snappily-titled ‘integrated risk management plan’, a bean-counter appears to have calculated you can make significant savings by considering the introduction of a ‘nucleus’ shift pattern, providing 12-hour day cover, again with the on-call element.

Some little disquiet about this way of working has circulated among the fire service for a while. The point already made by one of my Guardian colleagues, that Warrington’s Winwick Road station will have the only directly-manned appliance in the borough, bears repeating.

Maybe the Penketh proposal is only fettling around the edges for accounting purposes. Other stations like Birchwood and Stockton Heath have seen some upheaval over the past couple of decades certainly.

And the role of the fire service is undergoing a sea change – put simply we have less serious fires than ever before. Yet Cheshire is still festooned with chemical installations, with their inherent risks.

Every limb of our civic body appears at risk of amputation these days – let’s hope this latest cauterisation is not a cut too far.

  •  Food reviews are not usually on Podium’s radar – not for the want of trying as I believe I could competently rate anyone offering eggs Benedict, sushi or eat-all-you-can-Oriental-buffet within a 20-mile radius.

But as a jobbing journo, you quickly learn that any opportunity for half-baked opinions and reheated repartee should be devoured. Certain developments shake this article of faith though.

Recently I popped into Kenyon Hall Farm, with an old comrade, for a quite delightful Irish breakfast. He had the farmhouse fry – but that’s immaterial.

Quite innocently my pal ‘checked in’ for this innocuous brunch on Facebook. So around 24 hours later my social media feed invited yours truly to ‘review’ my outing. No fear, I thought.

Just out of interest though, I clicked through to the farm’s page – and you can forget Piers Morgan, Jeremy Paxman or Craig Revel-Horwood.

Clearly there’s nothing more vicious than a highly-entitled mum-of-two who feels slighted because their pumpkin-picking experience wasn’t sprinkled with fairy dust from Disney.

I know this column’s been here before but what possesses these numpties to bare their anguish for the similarly self-obsessed?

When did it become acceptable to wallow in your own self-importance and grandstand about your frivolous disappointments? Have a quiet word on the day – or come up with a reasoned phone call or letter. Spare us your bile though.

  •  One of the best comebacks of the week came from Wolves utility man Matty Russell, who must surely be in the running for try of the Four Nations tournament after his sensational acrobatics for Scotland.

Predictably someone on Twitter declared that the ex-Gold Coast Titan only qualified for the Bravehearts as his favourite biscuit was Highland Shortbread.

Decent line but not one likely to cut much ice with the Ayrshire-born international, as he duly acknowledged in his remarkably magnanimous reply.

Perhaps Steve McCormack’s might be the only squad whose backroom staff boasts a geneticist (who hasn’t been given quite so much work since Jack Charlton’s reign for Eire) but the Scots made the ‘Wall of White’ blanch for at least half an hour.

And does an extended run out wide now beckon for Russell in 2017, given the paucity of solid options available presently on Wire’s edges?