The Ranger wrote:
> Virginia Tadrzynski > wrote in message
> ...
>> Our Scoundrel Buddy, Dimitri, got us all thinking
>> about our proudest moment. Here's a flip......what
>> is your most memorable faux pas? [snip]
>
> The fall wind whipped through the canopy of laced branches,
> swirling royal browns, bright oranges, crimson reds, and mild
> ocher into a blizzard of leaves.
>
> I hunched deeper into my jacket and reshouldered the bag of
> groceries. "She's really going to love this..." I bragged
> aloud.
>
> "Uh-huh. And you know this because?" Delta asked between
> chattering teeth and body-shivers.
>
> "I've already done it once," I smiled over at my niece. "Worked
> all the bugs out last time. I'll use less garlic this time."
>
> "That'll help," she quipped. "You don't do garlic well."
>
> "Shut-up... No foo' for you!"
>
> "That okay. Dean's picking me up at 6. It'll spare me having to
> listen to you two."
>
> "Dean... Dean... Which one is he again? Friday? Saturday? There
> are soooo many..."
>
> "You're a mean old man, Unc..."
>
> "And damned proud of that fact. It takes years to get to this
> level."
>
> We got to our apartment and I fumbled with the
> company-maintained locks. "I should have grandpa come over and
> 'improve' these."
>
> "The manager would have a calf right on our porch. The ol'
> cow's still mooing over him fixing the overhead [fan]..."
>
> "Let her. Veal."
>
> Delta simply walked past me and into the landing. I headed to
> the galley kitchen and started unloading the bag onto the army
> olive Formica. Three beautiful slices of lamb shoulder. My
> latest living herb addition, basil. A lemon. A bulb of elephant
> garlic. Basmati rice and saffron. I reached into the pantry and
> pulled out a bottle of Greek olive oil, an impulse purchase
> from our latest pilgrimage to Draeger's, and a skillet to
> quick-fry the lamb.
>
> "Don't forget the burner on the stove burns hot."
>
> "Yeah, yeah. I've only lived her longer than you..."
>
> Quiet returned. I added enough oil to the skillet and turned on
> the burner. I moved all the ingredients over to the stove prep
> area and waited for the oil to heat up to the proper
> temperature.
>
> "I'm outa here."
>
> "Later. When're you coming in?"
>
> "I'll call if I'm going to be real late, 'dad.'"
>
> "Be nice..." I warned.
>
> "11."
>
> "Late," and the front door snicked closed.
>
> Whisps of smoke started to rise from the oil in the pan.
> "Perfect!" I turned the burner down to low and put the lid on
> the skillet. I continued seasoning the lamb; salt, pepper,
> lemon, zest, crushed garlic... I was pleased with the looks and
> smells moving about the little kitchen and reached for the lid.
>
> FWOOOM!
>
> Flames blew up and over the lid the moment air streamed in
> through the cracks. I dropped the lid immediately, looking at
> the curled hairs on my arm vying for attention against the
> cherry-red skin. I blistered the air with some impossibly
> colorful metaphors walked over to the sink. "That's going to
> hurt for a while."
>
> After a few more minutes of rinsing the pain away under the
> kitchen faucet, I turned back to the stove. In my absent-minded
> state, I'd forgotten to turn the stove off and noticed black
> smoke curling out of the skillet, over the lid, and straight up
> into the ceiling. "Oh, damn!" A new Costco purchase proved
> handy: an 8" CO2 extinguisher was right by the sink. I pulled
> the pin and fired two quick volleys stoveward.
>
> SSSSSSHHHH! SSSSSHHHHHH!
>
> Lid, skillet and flaming oil blew off the burner and clattered
> against the tile backsplash.
>
> "Whoa!" I watched the lit oil coil up and down the backsplash
> and towards the overhead fan pulling the smoke and CO2 into
> it's filter. I fired the extinguisher two more times.
>
> SSSSHHH! SSSSSHHHH!
>
> White powder now swallowed black smoke.
>
> The flame went out, too. I looked around the kitchen. White
> powder not only circulated through the tiny kitchen, it covered
> everything in it; canisters, cupboards, sink, meat.
>
> I was laying out another string of profanity when the front
> door opened.
>
> "What the..."
>
> "There was a problem with tonight's dinner..."
>
> "Uh, yeah? Com'on out and see the rest of the apartment."
>
> I looked around the corner into the living room and then at the
> doorway. White particles swirled with black smoke. <sigh> "I
> can explain..."
>
> SWMBO listened patiently and then started to laugh. "Well, it
> was memorable. Wait 'til I tell Delta."
>
> I've been living it down more ever since. And family get
> togethers are very painful when Delta talks about it.
>
> The Ranger
>
>
That was a great read, Ranger.

--
Janet Wilder
Bad spelling. Bad punctuation
Good Friends. Good Life