So on to the runner up, or first place loser if you will. The highlight moment number 'two' of the Currarong weekend away. It all started with a simple holiday idea...

"Lets have home-style hamburgers for lunch."

Nothing out of the ordinary there. We made the meat patties, cut the salad and set the table... then threw the meat into the pan. Pretty soon they were sizzling away nicely, the buns were thrown into the oven, and the smell of fresh hamburgers wafted through the unit. But pretty soon, something else began wafting through the unit. A little smoke

Fi thought that it was the smoke from the hamburger patties, and turned down the heat... but still something was burning. So she moved the pan off the cooktop all together... still the smell of smoke ran through the unit. Then it happened. Fi opened the oven, sending smoke from the now charred black buns spiraling into the room. Everywhere. As you can make out in the pic above.

They were toasted as black as sin. Smoke filled the air... we all began to cough, running outside, only to have to run back inside to turn off the fire alarm that was now beeping in typically annoying fashion. I raced for my Asthma medication, the overwhelming smoke making my weak lungs decide to take a holiday from that whole 'breathing' thing...

Funny enough, the neighbors were outside on their ajoining decking enjoying lunch, and were witness to our coughing, spluttering escape. They asked if we were ok, and who was responsible for the smokey lunchtime burnt offerings. Like the good friends (and husband) we all were, we quickly absorbed the blame by pointing out that Fi was the sole person responsible for the rolling haze. You could almost smell the betrayal, and see us all pointing at her, and backing away leaving her standing on her own under the condescending glare of the fellow holiday folk.

Even funnier, the neighbors eating next door turned out to be the owners of the entire unit block, who basically sat by as their million dollar investment was threatened with the spectre of a firey demise. Oops.

Funnier still, Fi smelt like a chimney, as she copped the fury of the burnt buns full face on as she opened the oven. And I have it on good authority that later that night in the shower, she blew her nose and black charred remains of our hamburger buns came out her nose.

Gross.