A few minutes ago, there was a loud bang from the kitchen. Graham and I emerged from our studies to investigate. A smell of burned electrical something or other hung in the air but, mysteriously, everything was working. The lights were OK, the dishwasher was still sloshing gently and the fridge freezer was happily burbling to itself. The microwave and cooker were fine, as was the kettle. None of the plugs were hot to the touch. We stood there baffled for a while until finally we thought to check the ancient radio. It was dead. Sniffing it revealed the source of the burned electrical smell. Of all the things in the kitchen that could have gone bang, the radio was the most expendable, but I'll have to buy a new one tomorrow.