In 1964, I took our eldest, and only daughter at the time, outside to watch the Whitsuntide procession go past(remember those?) I left the chip pan on the electric ring, melting the fat ready to do the dinner, then got in conversation with neighbours and completely forgot about it. When I went back in through the front door I was met by thick, black smoke! I raced next door, the gentleman went in, brought the chip pan outside and someone called the fire brigade. When they arrived, the fire was out, but I had a terribly charred kitchen, burnt out light switches, the wooden wall behind the cooker was a mass of blistered paint, and everywhere was almost black. When hubby got off the bus from work I was waiting outside, saying "Promise you won`t be mad?" I`m just thankful that I took the baby outside with me and didn`t leave her in the pram.