I think I must have a deathwish or at least a strong subconscious desire to claim on my home insurance as once again I have tried to burn the house and its occupants down. This time wasn't quite as bad as the burnt potatos, well only if you consider asphyxiation the better way to go. Story goes...Jay and I came home from our morning sojourn yesterday and after lunch I thought it would be nice to make use of our lovely open fire. We have these idiot-proof (ha-ha), non-Girl Guide logs that are doused in lighter fluid and you just light the bag. So I put one on, lit it and two seconds later the carbon monoxide alarm went off, shrilling in my ear. So perched precariously at the top of the stairs, (because some moron decided that was a great place to put an alarm - if you don't get killed by the smoke you'll die trying to turn the thing off and falling down the stairs) I wrenched the battery out and opened all the upstairs doors, thinking to myself Gosh it really smells of burnt plastic. I'm sure that can't be good for me. As the acrid stench of what I then realise is CO is slowly starting to no doubt poison us I acknowledge that Keith must have closed the flue after the last time we had a fire. Of course when I stick my head in the fireplace I can see nothing, so I grab my trusty torch, only to find it has no batteries. Then I remembere my dad gave Keith one of those wind-up ones for Christmas and yes, it was a moment when I thought those tv adverts are right! I didn't have to spend hours turning my drawers inside out to find a torch that worked! Anyway I digress, so there I am with my head in the fireplace, consuming no doubt vast quantities of CO and trying to see if I am actually closing the flue to the point that it will never open again or if in fact I am saving mine and Jay's life. Needless to say shortly after that Jay decided he'd had enough of his mother malarking around and went upstairs to his room to read and then fall asleep, presumably brought about by the excess CO now floating around in the house. Deciding that it really wasn't that cold after all I let the log burn out and took myself off down to the basement for a spot of varnish fumes - so much for getting Keith to build the desk. I seem to have become sous-carpenter, you know the one who does all the work... Ahhh, the excitement of surburbia. Today I dealt with a cat with worms, (ooo - it makes me squirm just thinking about it) and a little boy who took the very large tub of Greek yoghurt out of the fridge and proceeded to try every kitchen utensil until he found just the right little yellow spoon. Ha, Goldilocks has nothing on Jay. When I actually discovered him the yoghurt and he had moved into the reading room where his trucks and diggers were building a yoghurt town. Delightful.