After Haiku

a spark ignited

flames fanned, blazing inferno

charred devastation

Inspired by the prompt at

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F is for Fire

   

   Woken abruptly from a vivid nightmare, she discovered her bedroom filled with smoke.  Realization struck followed rapidly by terror. 

           



     She raced for the door. Heat radiated from it. Terrified she backed away, struggling to breathe. She raced for the window, opened it quickly, and paused for only a moment before jumping into the abyss below.

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Fire

    A nonet poem written for the Write Tribe prompt.  It is my first ever attempt at this form of writing. A nonet is a poem which contains 9 lines. The first line contains 9 syllables, the second 8, the third 7, and so on in descending order.  The poem can be written on any subject and rhyming is optional and not required.  

Flames gain momentum consuming all

Heat grows intense as time passes

Billowing smoke climbs higher

Feathery fingers reach

Stretching to heaven

All engulfing

Sizzling

Embers

Burn

Kitchen Catastrophes

     Kitchen catastrophes happen to the best of us.  I will say before I begin that I have went a long time since breaking anything or dropping anything I just took out of the oven on the floor. I haven’t flooded the kitchen lately either.  I have been really good.  Life has rolled merrily along without any kind of calamity, until yesterday.

      Yesterday after seeing both kids off to school I went about making my usual diet breakfast of one poached egg, one piece of toast, and glass of orange juice.  Since my husband is gone more than he is not, I save all the papers our kids have done at school for him to see when he finally arrives on the scene.  Up until yesterday I kept those papers on the microwave next to the toaster.  I didn’t pay any never mind that the stacks of papers were a little close to the toaster, I just popped in my bread and went about my business.  Before long I noticed a burning smell. Confused by this, I went over to get my toast and realized to my horror that the pages closest to the toaster had been scorched.  Oh $hit and sunny Je$us!  There is nothing like starting the day by trying to burn down the house to get the ole heart pumping a little faster.  Needless to say the papers are in a different location now.

 

       The day progressed.  I spent most of it wrapping Christmas presents and am proud to say that little task is finished.  Life marched on and I did my thing.  It wasn’t until I was cooking supper when the real catastrophe happened.  I was standing at my stove turning the chicken I was cooking.  I had Brussels sprouts on the back burner.  Like so many times in the past, I placed a glass lid over the pan so that the water would come to a boil faster.  The glass lid had come with one of my deeper skillets.  Before I knew what hit the glass lid exploded into a million tiny glass pieces leaving only the metal ring that once housed the glass and the round handle.  It scared the living $hit out of me!  I had to dump the Brussels sprouts and clean all the glass off the stove before I could prepare a plan B of green beans.  I would have never dreamed that would have happened and I am sure I lost 10 years off my life from the experience.

         Who would have thought a lid manufactured for the sole purpose of covering a hot pan would explode and shatter like that?  I sure didn’t, not in my wildest dreams.  I guess you live and learn until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Focus on This! : Hot!

Blazing...

Hot...

Campfire!

Time to Roast Marshmallows!

Kitchen Disasters-BFF 176

     In the almost 15 years that I have ruled over my kitchen I have had my share of disasters.  If I wasn’t such a klutz and didn’t occasionally have my head up my a$$ a lot of the worst disasters would have been avoided.  Even when I think I have it planned and all should be stellar disaster still strikes.  I am a good cook, but a messy one and have a habit of slopping food all over the stove.   I rarely am able to prepare instant mashed potatoes without them boiling all over the stove and sending the stupid fire alarm off.  My family is well aware that if the alarm sounds and I am in the kitchen that it is only Mommy cooking.  Go back to your lives citizens! 

       It seems whenever I want everything perfect is the precise moment all hell breaks loose.  Recently I decided store bought birthday cakes cost entirely too much.  I know I can bake my own cakes for a lot less. I mean really, how hard can it be??   When my husband’s birthday rolled around, I went to the store and bought a cake mix, frosting, and the trimmings needed to make it look spectacular and rushed home with a bounce in my step and a smile in my heart.  Everything went off without a hitch.  I mixed up the batter and placed it in the oven.  I took the cake out of the oven at the precise time the box said and then….disaster struck.  At just that moment my kids and the three dogs decided to race through the kitchen.  My Boston terrier Jolly ran into my leg sending me sprawling flat on my a$$ and the perfect cake flying.  The cake went up, and as only the laws of gravity can allow, the cake came down.  Splat!!  There I sat on the floor in the middle watching my dogs devour what was left of my perfect cake.   

             The tears began and the sobs commenced.   I had a meltdown.  My husband came out into the kitchen and told me amid the mess that he didn’t need a cake.  With a stubbornness that is typical of me, I picked myself up mad as a hornet and said “the hell you don’t!!”  It was his birthday after all and there was no way in God’s green earth he wasn’t going to have cake and candles, not while I had breath in my body.  I grabbed my purse and stormed out of the house, got into my blazer, and literally flew out of the driveway in my quest to buy another cake mix.  Fortunately by the time I came home, the mess I had left behind had vanished.   My husband had cleaned up the aftermath in my absence.   I took a deep breath and baked another cake, which turned out just right the second time around.

         Just last night I got the brilliant idea I was going to cook rice in the microwave.  I carefully studied the instructions and thought I did exactly as they suggested.  Unfortunately, when the timer went off I discovered the rice had been transformed into a solid brick.  I was horrified!  It was the consistency of concrete.   I could have used it for a weapon!!  In my disgust I slam dunked the rice into the trash.  It reverberated when it hit the bottom with a loud BAM!   Being a resourceful cook, I served sherbet instead.  

        Other than the occasional broken dish, fallen cakes, sliced fingers, and that one time I accidentally flooded the kitchen when I went to help the kids with something while filling the sink with dish water, I have confessed all.   For the record, most of my activities in the kitchen are nothing less than dynamite.  My conscience is clear until next time when I can give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.