burnt offerings

No rugby this weekend. No, this is a weekend for real sportsmen and women. Finely honed athletes in a competition that makes heavyweight boxing look decidedly pedestrian. Yes, it the Crown Inn fruit cake competition.

Now, its a poor workman who blames his tools. So that will be me then. I'm blaming the oven. My oven was inherited with Chez rich and its not a well beast. There are no temperature markings on any of the knobs, the oven light does not work & the door seal has gone. So its rather hard to judge the temperature. However, Im pretty sure that it was too hot. It was the copius black smoke that gave it away. So I have this brick. There's about half an inch of pure black carbon, a thin layer of almost cake, and lots of warm runny goo in the middle. Still, never let it be said that I'm a quitter. I scooped out all the goo and scraped the soft stuff from the black crust, mashed it together & put it in a smaller tin. Back into the inferno for a few minutes & lo, a sort of fruity discus.

Once again it appears I am relying on a shortage of entries to creep into the points.