Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Fire fighters came to our house


While John and Caroline were at softball practice Sunday, Elizabeth and I stayed home to do our weekly cooking for meal swap. I made roast and gravy (and a big mess on the stove!) As I was cleaning the stovetop, I took off the knobs to wipe up under them and got something wet that I shouldn't have. The gas stove started clicking, like I was trying to turn it on and there were sparks! It may have been my imagination (must have been), but I thought I smelled gas. I dialed John on the phone but my mind was racing and I realized that I had not time to waste if this was a gas emergency. I didn't want my husband to be on the phone with me, with my daughter in the backyard (I sent her out and opened both doors), and hear me blown to smithereens. I hung up and dialed 911. As the fire truck started on its way, a firefighter on the phone talked me through what to do. John was trying to call me back as I was on the phone with the fire station, and then I heard the sirens. I said something about it to the guy on the phone, and he had the others downgrade the call to a Level 1 and turn off the sirens and lights. It was a very fast adventure. I feel silly, but gas is scary, and I didn't want to take any chances.

To thank the nice folks who came to make sure we were safe, Elizabeth and I baked them cookies and delivered them to the fire station yesterday.

After we left, she asked if we could bake them cookies and go there again!

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