The much-travelled Blessed Virgin Mary, fondly known as the BVM in my schooldays, has returned to bring a little light into the otherwise dreary lives of otherwise
dreary ordinary people.
This time she’s appeared in the fat, grease and grunge at the bottom of a George Foreman Grill.
John Milanos was grilling a hamburger when he saw the BVM’s face magically begin to form in the slimy scungy bits that drained from the grill.
I don’t know about John, maybe he cleans the grill every time he cooks a chop, but my own griller doesn’t receive such meticulous care and it’s normally caked with last week’s lamb and rosemary sausage. (I think it was last week when I had the sausages).
I bet if I pulled out the tray I could find a whole multitude of heavenly figures.