I was actually proud of myself for remembering the bag of African Violet potting soil in the kitchen when the gas grill caught fire.
I was probably 35 the first time I ever used a grill, which was a relic left by the people who rented my house. The ignition switch didn't work, so I'd turn on the propane, grab a long-handled lighter and hope for the best. A successful event involved very little of my arm hair getting singed. During the 15 years prior, Ed would marinate, rub and grill, which actually proves you can have too much of a good thing. Steak again? Please let me make Hamburger Helper!
I believe I've been given a second (or third) chance after this recent blaze. Not that I have the ability or interest to change much, but I'll definitely return to my burning-dinner-in-the-oven roots, with the occasional smoke alarm on the side, rather than using fireballs.
8 comments:
playing with fire again, eh? but the real deal this time. danger girl.
damn CQ, you do live on the edge. it's just so boring in the 'safe zone' ha!
good to see this pop up on my 'unread feeds'.
Love the title along with the thinking, "Great danger is great joy."
So when you singed your arm, Ed would marinate, rub and grill it? What a guy! Better than a spa.
I must be un American or something but I never GOT outside grilling. I'll eat whatever is cooked - inside or out (as long as it isn't fish or innards) but I really get no special thrill from the outside stuff. My idea is that god made microwaves for a reason. And the drinks are closer.
They don't call you, Burnin' down the house for nothin! Blaze on, Pants!
We didn't start the fire, it was always burning, la di dah dah...<3
Cook out time!
I always throw the matches at the grill while standing as far away as I can. The boom as the gas ignites has always made me jump.
LOL! My hubby usually says that women should not touch grill at all:) If he read this he would say: "I told you".:)
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