Thursday, December 10, 2020

Yesterday afternoon closes with an irritating yet comedic moment. Paul decides to reheat some chicken wings in the oven and notices a bad melting-plastic smell and coils of smoke rising up from the vents. Ick. We turn off the oven instantly. But a problem remains: I have two loaves of bread ready to bake. So I call my neighbor, who says, yes, she'll be delighted to bake them for me. Out the front door I go, sliding down the icy sidewalk with two bread pans in my hand. There's a street football game going on: Miguel, Mike, and little Miles throwing and catching long passes, plus Miguel's dog, who instantly forgets football and becomes entranced by the bread pans. Slip-slide I go down the sidewalk, with a dog bouncing at my side, football in the street, Valerie opening her front door to accept the bread. It is a funny neighborhood moment.

But then, five minutes later, my phone rings. Valerie, in disbelief, tells me she can't get her oven to turn on. It seems we have a kitchen stove pandemic. So slip-slide I go again, down the sidewalk to fetch back my unbaked bread. "Throw it in the freezer," said Tom, so that's what I do, and the results will be revealed someday.

In the meantime, my oven. Argh.

3 comments:

Carlene Gadapee said...

O nooooo.
OF course it'll be okay in the freezer, but jeez.

Ruth said...

I do believe yesterday was under a strange cloud for many of us.

I often "attend' Morning Prayer which is said from The Deanery Garden in Canterbury Cathedral. This morning the Reflections included some thoughts on Emily Dickinson.

Ang said...

Thanks for the comedic moment.