It gets worse
Today's entry is about another F word. Anyone want to guess... Flu? Festive? Frantic?
No, it's not any of those, although frantic does apply.
Today's F word is Fire.
Yes, Fire.
Does anyone remember earlier in the week, when I started to prep the kitchen for setting off a flea fogger, before I decided I didn't want to go the toxic route that would leave my kitchen needed to be cleaned from top to bottom?
No? Well, apparently, neither did I.
I came home from work on Thursday feeling very tired from staying up until 2 am all week cleaning. At one point I thought to myself "I'm too tired to cook" but we've eaten take out twice already this week and it gets expensive. So I started some rice pilaf on the stove and turned the broiler on. Then I went into the next room to check my email, leaving both kids occupied in the living room. The hubby was working out in the studio in the back.
Okay, now here's the important part: did I remember to remove the items that I placed in the oven for safekeeping earlier in the week? What do you think?
The next thing I know both smoke detectors are going off, and the one that is wired to the security system is so loud that it's almost impossible to function. I ran into the kitchen and opened the oven to find the plastic knob and handle of the antique copper kettle that I had left inside the oven was in flames. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and shot it into the oven, putting out the fire, and spent the next ten minutes getting the kids out of the house and trying to figure out how to get the alarms to stop shrieking (honestly, it was really loud). The next half hour is a blur of windows, fans, listening to the hubby ask me why the hell I hadn't checked the oven before I turned it on, and realizing just how much of a mess I had created.
So here's the really funny/sad/pathetic part: after deciding not to do the flea foggers because they were too toxic and messy, my house was now filled with toxic smoke from burned plastic and my kitchen was coated with black ash from top to bottom.
Ugh.
So I took the kids to a friend's house and the hubby and I spent until about 1:30 am cleaning the kitchen (pausing only to retrieve the kids at bedtime). Everything had to be cleaned: the tops of the cookbooks, the hanging pots (and the pot racks), the spice jars, and all the other stuff that normally lives out on the counters, shelves, and on top of the fridge. It was awful, and it's still not done.
The one bit of good news: before I turned on the broiler I spent a few minutes moving all of this to the bedroom:
This represents only about 1/3 the total laundry I've done in the last week of dealing with fleas. Had the entire pile been coated with black ash and need to be re-washed I think I would have given up.
A few more photos (and they're pretty crummy pictures, but it will have to do)
the front of the pullover:
a close-up of the flower (I'm not overly fond of bobbles and they're a pain to knit, but these look really cute):
and the tree, now fully decorated (or as decorated as it's going to get):
We don't have very many ornaments here, as most of our ornaments are still intermingled with our various family's ornaments on the East Coast. But I like the way this tree looks - you can still see that it's a tree, it's not completely covered up with decorations. As time passes we will acquire more ornaments, but it seems fitting that the first tree of our nuclear family should be simple.
(Yes, that is my Schacht spinning wheel. I absolutely adore it, and haven't sat down in front of it for at least 18 months. Sigh.)
So the next few days, instead of baking cookies and bread and wrapping presents (which is what I want to be doing) I will still be doing laundry, putting stuff away, and trying to finish cleaning the kitchen. But the house has never been cleaner!
No, it's not any of those, although frantic does apply.
Today's F word is Fire.
Yes, Fire.
Does anyone remember earlier in the week, when I started to prep the kitchen for setting off a flea fogger, before I decided I didn't want to go the toxic route that would leave my kitchen needed to be cleaned from top to bottom?
No? Well, apparently, neither did I.
I came home from work on Thursday feeling very tired from staying up until 2 am all week cleaning. At one point I thought to myself "I'm too tired to cook" but we've eaten take out twice already this week and it gets expensive. So I started some rice pilaf on the stove and turned the broiler on. Then I went into the next room to check my email, leaving both kids occupied in the living room. The hubby was working out in the studio in the back.
Okay, now here's the important part: did I remember to remove the items that I placed in the oven for safekeeping earlier in the week? What do you think?
The next thing I know both smoke detectors are going off, and the one that is wired to the security system is so loud that it's almost impossible to function. I ran into the kitchen and opened the oven to find the plastic knob and handle of the antique copper kettle that I had left inside the oven was in flames. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and shot it into the oven, putting out the fire, and spent the next ten minutes getting the kids out of the house and trying to figure out how to get the alarms to stop shrieking (honestly, it was really loud). The next half hour is a blur of windows, fans, listening to the hubby ask me why the hell I hadn't checked the oven before I turned it on, and realizing just how much of a mess I had created.
So here's the really funny/sad/pathetic part: after deciding not to do the flea foggers because they were too toxic and messy, my house was now filled with toxic smoke from burned plastic and my kitchen was coated with black ash from top to bottom.
Ugh.
So I took the kids to a friend's house and the hubby and I spent until about 1:30 am cleaning the kitchen (pausing only to retrieve the kids at bedtime). Everything had to be cleaned: the tops of the cookbooks, the hanging pots (and the pot racks), the spice jars, and all the other stuff that normally lives out on the counters, shelves, and on top of the fridge. It was awful, and it's still not done.
The one bit of good news: before I turned on the broiler I spent a few minutes moving all of this to the bedroom:
This represents only about 1/3 the total laundry I've done in the last week of dealing with fleas. Had the entire pile been coated with black ash and need to be re-washed I think I would have given up.
A few more photos (and they're pretty crummy pictures, but it will have to do)
the front of the pullover:
a close-up of the flower (I'm not overly fond of bobbles and they're a pain to knit, but these look really cute):
and the tree, now fully decorated (or as decorated as it's going to get):
We don't have very many ornaments here, as most of our ornaments are still intermingled with our various family's ornaments on the East Coast. But I like the way this tree looks - you can still see that it's a tree, it's not completely covered up with decorations. As time passes we will acquire more ornaments, but it seems fitting that the first tree of our nuclear family should be simple.
(Yes, that is my Schacht spinning wheel. I absolutely adore it, and haven't sat down in front of it for at least 18 months. Sigh.)
So the next few days, instead of baking cookies and bread and wrapping presents (which is what I want to be doing) I will still be doing laundry, putting stuff away, and trying to finish cleaning the kitchen. But the house has never been cleaner!
2 Comments:
Ohmygosh I would not want to be in your shoes. Once I had this candle that I loved but the wick was off center and it wouldn't burn anymore. The wax was stuck in the votive, so I hit upon the idea of putting the stove on it's lowest setting to melt it. That worked great, and la! The wonderful smell was also activated. So I started occasionally setting it in the oven just to get the pretty smell. Big, really really dumb, really stupid mistake. Wax is almost impossible to clean out of a stove. I feel for you. I hope the plastic isn't still smoking.
Oh, and love the flower on the sweater. She'll love it!
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