I've burnt my plums...

In a bid to make healthy use of some plums that I bought which were just a tad too firm i.e. rock hard, to enjoy raw, I thought I would gently poach them in a little sugar and water to make a rather delicious fruity treat for my breakfast. Unfortunately, I started this endeavour at around 10pm and I think my brain was already on shutdown for the day. I settled in to my beany bag in front of the telly, right in front or I can't see it, and got rather gripped with the latest 'Without a Trace'. I blame my sister for this. She got me started on WaT when I was staying there a few times ago, and I thought it would be a good idea to put it on series link on my rather fabulous Sky+ thing. For some reason, WaT seems to be on TV about 14 times a week, so my Sky+ thing fills up in an alarmingly rapid fashion with episodes of WaT which I feel compelled to watch in case I miss out on something. I think I've picked up that there are two different series running simultaneously which makes things hugely confusing and requires considerable concentration. Returning to the plums at this juncture, just after the end of the latest WaT - ok, I admit, my second episode today - I thought I could smell something burning. I went around the lounge sniffing every electrical point, wire, plug, socket and lamp and seemed to get a stronger smell towards the door by my computer. Oh no, my precious computer. What will I do with that 89% of my day if my computer goes out of action? No, it was coming from the hall. The electrics motherboard - or whatever it's called. Oh no! I'll have to call the electrician and it is very late on a Friday. Hold on, it looks a bit fuggy in the kitchen... SHIT! The plums have now been on for over an hour. I didn't put much water in so they wouldn't be too watery. They aren't. They are well and truly tar like, moulded to the bottom of my beautiful Fissler casserole which cost me marginally more than the GDP of a small third world country. My Fissler is now outside to try and remove the source of the smoke but somehow the acrid smell of plum smoke has filled my entire beautiful cottage. I'm not sure it will ever go away. I've been spraying 'Oust' like a woman possessed but it really isn't up to the job. I've had the elegant cooker hood on extract for the the last hour which has had about the same effect as me taking a deep breath in. Boo hoo. I'm depressed. If anyone has a remedy for all pervading plum smoke from tar like, sacrificial, slightly overcooked fruit, please tell me. My Lakeland chef's candle just isn't cutting the mustard either. Buggery bollocks - and i'm just quoting Jennifer Saunders there. What on earth got in to me to start cooking plums at bedtime... Hmph.

If you come to my gig in the Lake District next Sunday and you think I'm a bit whiffy, I still won't have been able to wash the smell out of my hair. Hmph again.

Rx