18th August. Festival of Mud and Fire.

The forecast of 'light' rain proved slightly wide of the mark - persistent downpour would have been more accurate.

Ostrich turned out surprisingly meaty but the estimated cooking time was similarly a bit off.

Events that followed confirmed that alcohol, bonfires, plastic tarpaulins and old engine oil do not mix favourably.

In the process of geeing up the blazing logs with the oil and at the same time having covered the scaffolding arrangement with a brand new tarpaulin to keep the rain off the fire, I'm afraid I was a little cavalier oilwise...(Under the direction of Alistair who seems to have a thing about fire and explosions like a lot of men.)

"You always seem to want a big fire as soon as you're drunk." commented Isabelle to me, afterwards.

The results mimicked a chip pan fire but on a much larger scale, simultaneously melting the tarpaulin and setting fire to more than one coat that had been hung up in an effort to dry them.

Young Fraser's new back to school wear was one casualty, requiring immediate replacement from Matalan first thing the next morning.

I hear His Mother (Mrs Alistair) was not amused.