Burn't offerings.

Its been an uneventful weekend apart from Friday night when just as I was taking my evening meal out of the oven my phone rang and frightened the life out of me. I’m not easily frightened but the phone was on the work surface next to the oven and as I bent down my ear was only inches away. The result was that my carefully prepared Flan au Chou-Fleur, (well my version of it) finished up on the floor.

I had been meaning to turn the ringer volume down for some time but couldn’t work out how to do it, the loss of my dinner cured that and I managed it. However I turned it down to almost off and as a result didn’t hear it ring later on when Mike tried to get in touch. Mike always calls round on a Friday for a couple of hours, but for some reason I thought it was Thursday. That and the phone call, which was an invitation to go for a drink, meant the poor bugger was sat in his car outside my drive waiting for me to come home.

I spent the evening in pleasant company watching (for the second time) the video of the Take that concert at the Manchester Stadium filmed earlier in the year. My friend had been there and she was anxcious to show me the one hundredth of a second clip of her clapping her hands excitedly somewhere in the crowd. She run the DVD back and forth saying things like “there, there” and “that was me, did you see me” I didn’t but said yes to spare myself any more.

Before I left she started to make me something to eat in a Brevel toaster, but I wasn’t really in the mood for a ham, cheese and jam toastie, so I turned it of and made ready to leave. I could see she was tired and a little drunk so not wanting to outstay my welcome I left. Apparently some time later she had woke up and resumed cooking the toastie along with a pan of noodles, which of course she forgot about and went back to sleep on the couch.

By morning the toastie looked like a long dead tortoise and the noodles had been burnt to a cinder and had fallen through the new hole in the pan. Luckily she woke up to the smoke detector waving a white flag and no real harm was done. I hate to think what might have happened if the smoke detector hadn’t done its job.

The whole thing was of course my fault, but I know I had turned the toaster off, and as for the noodles they weren’t even a glint in the pans eye when I left. Shades of Don and the recalcitrant sausage, now that was a fire!!