I think Thanksgiving is a very civilised holiday. There is excitement, good food and great company but without the stress of a manic build up. Unless you are a turkey of course! We spent a wonderful day yesterday with Jane’s friends who invite us every year and we walked around their lovely neighbourhood with all the children in the afternoon before heading back for pie, pie, pie. Apple pie, pecan pie, and pumpkin pie. Yup; we went pie mad. (How weird does that word look now that I have written it several times?)

We headed out to Westport today to buy new light fittings and visit a jewellery store. On the way back to the car we all played a silly game of tag as compensation to the boys for dragging them round the shops. We were trying to run around the grass on one side of the car park but I had boots with heels and Tony and Jane had heavy winter coats so we weren’t exactly fleet of foot. ‘Base’ was a piece of modern art, and the trees provided some much needed sanctuary at times, but the more we laughed, the more ridiculous our running became. As we were playing we all noticed a funny smell in the air but desperate not to be the next ‘it’, we paid little attention to the acrid aroma. The game went on for some time until the combination of hysterics and vain attempts to run across unlevel ground to ‘base’ proved all too much. We stopped and turned to face the car and our jaws dropped. Another car in the parking lot, just a few metres away from where we had been playing, had flames flickering from under the bonnet. The Fire Chief’s car, the police and a huge fire truck were all in attendance and the area was filled with firefighters and on lookers. So intent were we on running round in circles we had been completely oblivious to the whole thing!