It's almost two years to the day since Sarah and I got married; it was as hot and humid then as it's been this weekend. With family and friends coming from all points of the compass (almost) it's nice to meet up for a meal before a big event, as we did the night before our wedding and again on the evening before Charlie's Christening. The Ball House is a local hostelry known for good food (and beer) and with the space to accommodate large numbers. We met up there the night before our wedding without incident; we thought we'd do the same again on Saturday. But after what occurred I somehow doubt if we'll be back for a third time. No-one seemed to notice that the (welcome) breeze had suddenly lifted someone's paper napkin over a lighted candle and then up and across the table like a mini-version of the SS Hindenburg, finally crash landing in a basket full of bread rolls. And the emergency services (in the form of relatives - I was at the bar!) were too amused by the spectacle to respond with the swiftness necessary for damage limitation. Water was belatedly sought and place-mats utilised as fire-beaters, and eventually the flaming bread basket was thrown out of the open window (to the management's obvious disapproval).Thankfully, the Christening yesterday passed off without incident (although there was a moment - during the lighting of the baptismal candle - when I feared that seven hundred years of church history might be about to go up in smoke). The service was wonderful; we had a house-full afterwards and Charlie acted like royalty, as if the whole thing - presents, adulation and attention - was his due (which I suppose, in a way, it is). And Boston Stump survived!