Teresa

Picture the scene (because we weren't taking photos in the beginning). It is Christmas Day, and the Christmas Dinner is laid out on the table, except for the Yorkshire Puddings, which have just gone into the oven, needing a higher temperature than the rest. The family sits around the table, dishes are passed, sparkling juice is poured, we are ready to begin. Rebecca glances towards the oven and remark, "Oh, that can't be good." We all look around, to see smoke pouring out of the top of the oven door, rolling up to the ceiling and towards us in an ominous black swirly cloud. Through the glass window in the oven door flames can be seen.

Everyone jumps up, there are screams and alarums. Dave seizes the fire extinguisher, opens the oven door, stands back, and sprays the fire. The flames disappear, he stops, they reappear. Now the fumes from the fire extinguisher are making us cough, so we retire to the back garden. (There are pictures taken here, but not with a digital camera - watch this space). Dave and Teresa go back into the kitchen and finally douse the fire with the rest of the extinguisher and a packet of baking soda. We now notice the kitchen and contents are covered with a gray film, and upon consulting the side of the extinguisher, we learn the residue is not toxic but is highly caustic.

We discuss possibilities out in the back yard. Are there any restaurants that aren't fully booked? Would we want to eat their Christmas fare anyway? Getting cold, we relocate to Rebecca's bedroom, at the opposite end of the house from the kitchen, and think some more. We decide on a picnic of bread and cheese on Rebecca's bed.

After our bread and cheese, we decide the dust has settled enough to move to the living room for Christmas Pudding. The pudding is rescued from beside the pitiful oven . . .