Last night I made a tasty dinner in the large cast iron skillet: a pound of ground beef browned with half a chopped onion, a chopped carrot, and a diced stalk of celery. When that was cooked, I added two cups of beef broth, 12 oz of marinara sauce, a liberal dose of garlic-pepper seasoning, and a cup of orzo. Brought to a simmer, cooked until the orzo was tender (about 10 minutes), then tossed in a handful each of chopped spinach and kale. Stirred it together, and topped with a bit of feta and parmesan cheeses. It was delicious!

In a second cast iron skillet, I pan-toasted the last few slices of bread from an artisan loaf. I washed out the pans and left them on the stove to dry. Went to book club with my sister, watched a couple episodes of “Black Books” on Netflix when I got back, and headed to bed.

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and saw the two skillets on the stove. The smaller one (that I used for toasting the bread) was ready to go back on the shelf, but the larger one needed to be oiled so I dribbled in a bit of oil and turned the burner on to season it. I made my coffee and tidied up the kitchen, tossed a load of laundry into the washer, emptied the recycle bin, and headed to the shower.

I was about halfway thru my shower when the smoke detectors went off.

Let me just say that the fire alarm is definitely not something you want to hear while you are in the shower. Not that any time is a good time, mind you, but I had soap on my face and shampoo in my hair and as I tried to rinse off I was remembering the video that gets shown during emergency preparedness training. The one in which a room goes up like an inferno in less than three minutes.

Yeah, so it was with a pretty high degree of panic that I frantically  scrubbed soap off my face and leaped from the shower, grabbing a towel and flinging the bathroom door open (completely forgetting Rule #1 of fire safety – check the door for heat), and hollering at the Girl, “WHAT’S BURNING?!?”

To which she rather sullenly replied “I don’t know” and hit the reset buttons on the smoke detectors.  She was far less panicked than I; probably because she was not standing in the hallway, haphazardly wrapped in a towel and dripping water all over but was instead sitting in her room, able to see that the house was not going up in flames all around us (though there was an uncomfortable amount of smoke coming from the kitchen).

Rather embarrassingly, it was entirely my fault. About a minute after I turned on the stove to season that skillet, I forgot about it. So, yeah – I left a pan with oil in it on a hot stove and then got in the shower.  Not a good way to start the week.

But I’m super thankful that I didn’t walk out of the house with the stove on! Could have been so much worse.


About wonkydonkey

You want random? You got it. Mostly knitting and gardening, with some home improvements, pets, baking, family, and the occasional bad joke thrown in for good measure. This blog is mine; it is a place where I can insist upon proper grammar or break my own rules and degrade into slang on a whim. Either way, it's still mine. I love the Internet.
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