Monday, December 7, 2009

Where there's smoke...

So last night I asked Hubs to start a fire on our fireplace after the kids went to bed.

We had one of those busy December weekends packed out with events, some of them fun, and still managed to knock a few things off the to do list. Hubs got the lights up outside which is no easy task considering that there are no outlets out front and he had to rig something from the garage and restring the lights a billion times to keep the fuses from blowing. I started sorting my stuff to ship and picked up a few gifts at a couple of the craft fairs that ran this weekend. I didn't do any baking, but we did decide which cookies we wanted. Hubs had race on Saturday and felt pretty good about the results. To celebrate, I made shrimp and grits and cornbread for dinner Sunday night and Girlie put on a puppet show afterwards. Crazy weekend, but a pretty good one overall. We also got a large load of firewood delivered, so I really wanted to relax after all of the hustle and bustle and chill by the fire with a glass of wine, and maybe get some writing done.

What I did instead was test all of the smoke detectors in the house (there are five ear piercing alarms, all in working order) and confirm that the extinguisher under the sink works. Yep, something went wrong and even with the flue completely open, smoke poured into the house, set off ALL of the alarms, and did I mention that the kids were in bed? So relaxing.

I ended the weekend huddled in my chair under a pile of blankets, windows open to air the smoke out, fan on high, watching the last episode of Mad Men, too cold to even reach for my glass, lamenting the fact that, in this case, where there's smoke, there WASN'T a fire.