We’ve really been taking the time to enjoy our holidays and it’s been wonderful. One of the difficulties of having a blog is the pressure to be ‘current’ with posts, which means prepping stuff before it actually happens so you can read it on time. That’s way more stress than I need. Often I have a great post for you, but it’s on reflection, after some event is over. Today I’m saying, screw it.
We put together our Día de los Muertos altar for my father on the day of the holiday, November 1st. This a special day that people remember and celebrate the lives of loved ones who have died. I’m still enjoying it in the dining room, so even though the day has passed, I really want to share it with you.
Neither Dug nor Mini Dug had the opportunity to meet my father, since he died when I was a girl. This altar was a wonderful opportunity for them to get to know him, while I was able to celebrate his life and our relationship. This altar came together very quickly, so it probably missing many facets of Dennis, as well as some of the traditional elements like flags, marigolds and sugar skulls. But as I placed each new item on the shelf, I was able to tell my husband and son a different story about life with my father. It was an incredibly meaningful and wonderful experience for us all. I am so happy that they are getting to know him.
I am already looking forward to next year’s altar. Maybe it will even be photographed before…
FYI: This is not my kitchen.
The other night I caught up on Girls and set fire to my kitchen.
All I could think was thank goodness I disabled my smoke detector because if the alarm was blaring while all this was going on I would have lost my shit. The irony is not lost here.
And before anyone goes postal on me for not having a smoke detector, where I cook my food without ever leaving it unattended, please let me explain. I live in a very small, 3 room apartment. The rooms are on top of one another. I have 1 set of speakers that you can hear in all 3 rooms. But I have THREE smoke detectors. Three. And when I boil water, the super loud vent over my stove turns on automatically and can’t be shut off without tripping the circuit breaker. But the smoke detector, now that goes off whenever I try to do anything other than boil water. Like 15 minutes into a 5 hour roast turkey (tequila/chipotle infused, apricot glazed). Or 5 minutes into sautéed anything. And let’s not even discuss my oven-baked eggplant parmesan. And I remind you: 2 other smoke detectors. So. We’re done here.
I am completely petrified about setting the whole building’s alarm off. I should be petrified of burning my house down. But the mortification of everyone pointing at me while we have all been forced out of our homes brings me back to the horrible days of being chosen last in gym class and being called brillo head every afternoon on the school bus. One of my builder colleagues has assured me that the entire building doesn’t alarm unless the sprinklers go off. And if the sprinklers go off, maybe I have bigger problems.
Anyway, I did a series of stupid things out of laziness that I’m not going to tell you about here because I hate getting yelled at and I promise not to do them again. And then there were flames. And the fire went something like this:
OH SHIT, grease fire! contained in the pan… ummm what did they teach me NOT to do with a grease fire in the 3rd grade? no water. OH SHIIIIIT BIGGER FLAMES. still contained in the pan? noooo! stovetop too… I’m totally going to burn the pretty new building down and everyone’s going to hate me! I have no idea how to use a fire extinguisher without having to read directions. And who the hell can find their baking soda at a time like this? Thank God Dug’s not here because I’d be in big trouble. How the hell has this never happened to me before?
*shifts pan to other burner, turns off flame, moves toward under sink extinguisher, watches flame die out, checks eyebrows for intactedness, takes deep breath, serves over-cooked veal, sits down to eat, Chewie lifts head*
Yes, I eat veal. No, I don’t want you to tell me what they do to it.
I’m terribly grateful it all worked out, but it got me thinking. Have you ever had a kitchen fire? What was it like? And I’m all about prevention, but do you have any tips for what to do if it happens?