Its show time and as per usual, it’s been my job to cook BBQ for the other workers on the Showgrounds station. Dinner and Lunch, Sausages, burgers and onions – it makes for nice atmosphere (if a slightly grubby stinky Jane). So that makes 24 straight BBQ, I and the little Jumbuck BBQ have done together. I’m not sure why the Little Jumbuck caught alight last night. I have been wiping it over after ever meal, though perhaps not delving into the drip tray as assiduously as I should. Perhaps it was the rain water from the torrential storm that had passed over a half hour before. Perhaps it was the fact in the rush to put up the marquee and get the burners going so that dinner would be ready for dinner break, I forgot to empty the grease tray. Anyway after half an hour it became clear that the flames leaping out of the BBQ weren’t coming out of the burners. The various steps I took to stop them, such as turning off the gas, lowering the hood and putting on salt didn’t work. The police patrol, who had stopped in for a quick sausage in bread, kindly helped me wheel the burning BBQ free of the Marquee which was now under a threat from the flames leaping out from under the griller and suggested I remove the meat which had suddenly become very well cooked. Together we stood and watched the fire burn itself out while dusk fell, the neon lights went on in the Showgrounds and huge black rain clouds swept over the race course towards us. The little Jumbuck didn’t look too damanged, but I dread to think what its innards look like. A friend has suggested that I’ve been flamed by the ovine spirits for using a BBQ named after a sheep for cooking BBQ.