Burnin' My Muffin

So many unfortunate things happen at inconvenient times.  Most of the time they are things we could normally handle, but for whatever the reason, the timing just causes more calamity than we thought possible.  Oftentimes these things happen to me before coffee (BC) or when I'm in a hurry and trying to leave the house.  I tend to leave a wake of chaos when I'm in a hurry.  Yesterday morning was one of those days.

Moose Man was spending the night at a friend's house.  He was dog-sitting for them and stayed over so he wouldn't have to get up early and drive over.  Landlord had been up at least half an hour before me and was outside.  He was watering the grass of the next door neighbor who has moved, ironically, to Hawaii.  She was suddenly widowed last year and left to seek solace in the sun.  However, like us, she had not sold her house before she left.  There were a couple of projects that were left unfinished in her backyard, and the lawn is patchy, like a fifteen-year-old boy trying to grow a beard.  Landlord has taken it upon himself to water her lawn a few times a week.  That's just the type of person he is.  Plus he's a stickler for taking care of your lawn.

I got up around 8:30 and came downstairs.  I started the coffee and it was perking right along.  I started the toaster for my English muffin and then heard a yowling from the basement.  Tux and Nubbin were more than ready to be let out.  I made sure Landlord's room was closed and opened the door to the basement, giving each kitty a bit of attention as she escaped her prison.  Then I smelled the burning that is associated with bread products and toasters.  I started to walk over to the toaster to take my muffin out, but the smoke had already reached the rafters and had alerted the smoke detectors.

The blood-curdling shriek that was emanating from the smoke detectors was deafening.  I unplugged the toaster and then ran around like a squirrel trying to cross the street - I needed to open the doors to get the smoke out, but the girls would get out because there were no screened doors.  I know I saw the girls starburst, but I had no idea where they went.  I thought of fanning the smoke detectors, but had no idea where they were.  The racket they were making was so loud, I could not figure out where the noise was actually coming from.  I saw Nubbin race downstairs back to the basement, her prison-turned-haven.   Then I saw Tux go shooting up the stairs to the top story.  Damn.

During this entire time, the detectors are screeching their alarm, and what I later found out was the alarm system was yelling, "FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE" like a female Speak-and-Spell (in a female robotic voice for those of you who are not children of the 80s).  I am a sound sleeper and have slept through a fire truck pulling in front of the house across the street from me before; the whole block turned out for it but where was Ms. Pixie?  Snoozing away in her jammies, out cold.  However, I seriously doubt there would be any way anyone could've slept through this.  Helen Keller would've at least stirred.  (So no need to worry about that, Mom)

Finally I saw Tux run from upstairs to the basement.  I slammed the door and then started opening and closing the kitchen door to fan the air.  When that failed to reduced the amount of noise, I finally found the smoke detector, dragged a chair over, and started fanning it with a kitchen towel.  

Just as Landlord walked in, the noise stopped and so did I, mid-fanning.  "Good morning," I said with a large, cheesy smile.  "Would you like some toast?"

He stood there, hands on his hips and said, "How ya doin?  Anything going on this morning?"

"Nope, not much...just making some breakfast you know...."

"Really?"  He walked over to the plate where I had (used the rubber-coated tongs, Mom) to extract the bits of what had been my morning repast.  "Hmmm, looks like the NHL has some new hockey pucks.  That is awesome."  

I was fortunate that there was no damage done to the house, but also that I happen to have a roommate/landlord with a sense of humor.  When Moose Man came home and heard the full story, he thought it was hilarious and chalked it up to the chaos that is Ms. Pixie.  To make up for causing such a ruckus, we left Landlord with the house to himself (kitties were in the basement) and spent the day in St. Louis with Bud Girl.