I had grand visions of my last night of summer, as someone with a runaway imagination should have.
After two weeks of classroom preparation, lesson preparation, crocheting hats for local stores, cleaning, cooking, preparing for two day-of-coordinating jobs, and more, I was ready for a break. But, throw in not having any time for exercise – besides one quick half hour of Just Dance for Wii on tuesday – and forgetting to do things such as eat lunch – I was a little frazzled.
Perhaps that is why I started yesterday by rushing around my house. I leaned over to pick something up, stood up quickly and caught my necklace on a chair. First new necklace I purchased in the last 6 months. Snapped. Broken. I should have realized then that things would go awry on my last day of summer.
Officially my lat day of summer was Sunday, since I was in meetings Monday through Wednesday. Technically, my last day of summer was my last day of our camping trip, since I have been working non-stop since then.
Today is the day that the students arrive. Today is the day it officially begins.
So, I was a little concerned at the events that occurred last night.
After the small necklace fiasco, no major disruptions occurred. Only small things like computers not working, district-wide internet being down all afternoon, not having enough desks. You know, small things.
I came home around 5:15 after a 9.5 hour day with no lunch break. I was excited to immerse myself into some cooking and to accomplish a few things around the house. I began preparing for the meal. The whole young chicken was already emitting lovely smells from the crockpot. As I began throwing ingredients into bowls for my mom’s famous Lattice Top Chicken Casserole, I realized that I had forgotten to purchase an ingredient. I rushed our the back door, through our secret gate (no lie), and into Albertson’s overpriced aisles.
Once back, I preheated the oven and began to finish my casserole preparations. I turned to grab a potholder and noticed a cloud of smoke above the oven. I need to clean that oven, I told myself with a sigh. Then, something bright caught my eye. Something bright orange. Giant flames were leaping about inside my oven!
I opened the oven in shock and then shut it quickly remembering that fire likes oxygen and I turned the oven off. Quickly I flung trash cans out from under my sink to grab the fire extinguisher. Before proceeding, however, I did what any newlywed would do, I called my mom.
My poor mother’s phone lost signal after I told her that my oven was on fire and should I spray it with the fire extinguisher?
Thankfully the flames died down and my mom called me back. I followed her instructions and scraped the inside of my oven and then washed the bottom with a wet rag while shaking with the aftermath of adrenaline born of fear. My next step will be to line it with foil.
Hubby was very comforting upon his return, but I sensed some laughter lurking about him. This isn’t the first time I caught something on fire in our house.
Dinner was delicious. We watched some Psych, did some dishes, crocheted, and went to bed
earlier than usual early. The only other mishap was me repeatedly asking hubby if he had put the laundry cans out.
‘You mean trash cans?’
Yes. Yes I do.
Wish me luck today!