My Gran used to live in the top flat in one of those old Edinburgh tenements. The gas was fed to these through a coin operated meter; you'd put a shilling in the meter and turn a wee handle and the meter would supply gas for a shilling's worth of time and then shut off the gas. Most people would stoke up their meter with loads of shillings, but my Gran kept forgetting.
So, she's be doing some baking and the gas would run out. "Silly me", she'd say, and put a shilling in the meter. A little later, she'd smell gas. "Silly me", she'd say, "I forgot to re-light the
oven". Then she'd re-light the oven.
This happened on a regular basis. I remember turning up in the street at the foot of me Gran's tenement once to be greeted with a loud "KABOOOM!!" and a shower of window glass.
When she finally went completely doolalley, we stashed her in a sheltered housing scheme. That was the first time I ever saw her with eyebrows.