BY THE LIGHT OF AN OPEN FRIDGE I ENTERED .....

Well, after a two month heatwave the weather has finally turned in the West Riding and overcast skies engorged with rain have made a welcome return. Judging by the news we have got off lightly in the UK. Many parts of the world - Japan, California - are suffering terribly with sky-high temperatures. It does seem like a global warning this year.

But I shall move onto more domestic affairs and lighten the mood I think. The subject matter for this morning's 'kaffeeklatsch' is ..... our 'cold cupboard'.

On Friday I opened our 'fridge' and noticed a slight niff. I put this down to some cheese. However the niff played on my mental nose and I wondered if the fridge was conking out. I had recently chucked the bottom door tray, which had split open, so I wondered if I'd somehow broken the seal around the door. 

I took a look on Saturday morning. The milk for my coffee had turned lumpy! Uh-oh! That was a bad omen. If there is one thing that is guaranteed to make me gip its sour milk. The effect is instantaneous and I am always in awe of how biology has created such an effective alarm system; that uncontrollable heaving of the chest and throat just a few carrot cubes shy of actually chucking up! 

So I gipped on Saturday morning and new then the niff wasn't just the cheese. Composing myself whilst still clutching the sink I went in for a second look. The fridge door felt wobbly and it wasn't very cold in there either. A warm fridge is an oxymoron. Like a living corpse or a popular dentist. The niff was evidently stuff going off so I set to and dragged everything out.

I took out all the shelves and trays and faced what was now an empty fridge. Things had been happening. The drain was full of gunk and stuff Van Helsing would have run a mile from spattered the nether regions. I checked the food and binned anything iffy or warm.

Grabbing a disinfectant cleaning spray, as bold and brave as Peter Cushing with wooden stake, I took charge of that fridge and whupped its ass. By the time I'd sprayed the undead back to hell the thing looked pristine again and worthy of its function once more, to refrigerate for the living.

The final thing was to check the door, clean the trays and put decent food back. The door problem was obvious. The fridge had slid backwards and the kickboard was stopping the door from closing. I just moved the fridge forward and the seal stuck once more like a vampire's kiss.

So to the trays. All fine except the veg tray. It stank. I lifted the bag of carrots. Wilted. I lifted the net of onions. Mildewed.. I came to the bag of spuds. Liquified and that was just me. What I found underneath the spud fluid made me gasp. Only the rank soil bed of Vlad the Impaler would have been worse.

In front of me was a long raft of fly eggs. In the fridge for God's sake! Fridge flies!!!

They were unmistakable as I'd seen them before. A neat sheet of small white cigars all stuck together like tiny bleached coffins. So innocent looking but hells bells. Flies in the fridge! I was horrified and fascinated in equal measure. 

How did the Mama fly get in there? I suppose it flew in. How did could the eggs survive in a fridge? Well, I suppose there are flies in Siberia. Where would the flies go once hatched out? They'd fly out of course like leaving an aiport! And worst of all, would the eggs have turned into maggots and crawled allover the other food? That particular thought sent me scurrying round the kitchen with a broad rictus grin as I yelled 'Urrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhh!'

Now I wouldn't normally hurt a fly [I don't need to but that's another shaggy dog story] but yesterday morning I drew the line with fly eggs in the fridge. I poured boiling hot water over them and flushed them down the plug hole. Probably an over-reaction, the hot water. I probably just warmed them up. Still they've gone and hopefully gone further than just the inside of my sink hole, back to their maker, the Lord of the Fridge Flies!

I am now left with that strange after-taste when something odd has occurred. Questions remain and I can't help thinking that if flies can live in a fridge then what can live in a lake on Mars?

I look down to see Blue the dog staring up at the window pane ....... to be continued!