This annual check is to establish how dangerous our dear catering van could be if he set his mind to it, although anyone that knows him would tell you he’s a kitten as long as he gets a run around the block once a week. Sadly the gas safe check did not see him in quite the same way. As the Arbitrators of Gas Safe inspected his piping, with Barny watching like a nervous relative, there was some discussion, and the occasional burst of laughter. He asked them for the prognosis, and they said it was bleak. Certificates of Gas Safety did not just grow on trees. And no, pointing out that technically they did, was not helping.
The problem was the huge flat grill, which some may remember from such heroic exploits as “Chicken Something or Other” or “us being inside the van and having photos taken”. As the grill had been modified to fit the van, it no longer complied with legislation, and it, along with almost all of the interior pipework, would have to go. Not only that but the traitorous cooker, which is probably best not remembered at all, and doesn’t even fit in the van, was never, ever, ever going to pass.
So the cooker didn’t fit, and the grill would have to go.
The grill would go, leaving a gap in the surface where once it had been.
The Gas People had a cooker, the grill had to go and there was a space in the van where the grill used to be…
…and now we have a cooker in it.
The Jabberwocky takes one step further towards feeding the Food Festival, now with a Gas Safety Certificate in one claw and a rather fetching engagement ring on the other. Which reminds me: In other news, Barny proposed. I am currently in one of the best moods a person can be in.