Not trespassing, not trading

but boy was he casual... 

While Mrs Raheny shuffled to the bus stop to go and meet her friend Orla in Dundrum, I thought I'd use the opportunity to fry myself the pair of andouillettes brought back from France by les Tontons Cannettes. The fact that I am currently typing on my computer rather than having my stomach pumped in A&E is a testament to my lifelong and gruelling training to try and push back the limits of Use-by-date avoidance (except for shellfish) All I can say is that these andouillettes were well travelled by the time I sank my teeth into them. They did Metz - Luxembourg in a packed,overheated car followed by a shortish flight to Dublin and a long, slow trip in a smoke-filled van to Belmullet (where I have a sneaking suspicion that les Tontons Cannettes forgot to transfer them to the fridge in their haste to toast their arrival at their holiday destination). They then eventually rested for a week in Nana's fridge (the andouillettes, not les Tontons Cannettes), and travelled back to Dublin in a packed Dacia, and settled for another ten days in my fridge. When I opened the pack this evening, I had a feeling that not unlike Tom Cruise, they were well past their peak. I thought I'd give them an extra long fry, to be on the safe side (one does not eat his andouillette medium rare when there is a question around its freshness). 
I survived. 
It wasn't exactly the most rewarding culinary experience but it will not be said that I wasted food brought all the way back from France because you cannot find andouillette in Ireland for love or money (?!)
The only collateral damage was the smell. 
Jayzus. 
As Mimi was about to return from her gymnastics training, I realised that if the gym-mum who was giving her a lift back was to stick her head in the door, she would most likely report me to Social Services. As luck would have it, she was so exhausted from over an hour in the M50 traffic jams that she dropped Mimi in the driveway. 
I only had to cope with the embarrassment of seeing the gym bunny retch as she came in. 
I now have about half an hour before Mrs Raheny shuffles back home. All the windows and doors are open, the scented candle is lit and I am spraying liberal amounts of Dettol on all affected surfaces (boys included). 
Fingers crossed, she won't smell a rat. Or worse still, my andouillette supper.