December 3rd, 2007

cake

Duh.

Ok, years ago, keelamonster taught me the practice when entertaining of putting a pot of cider on the stove to waft lovely smells through the house. Which remains a good practice.

This weekend, I had some friends over to play boardgames, and the cider with two cinnamon sticks happily sat on the back burner perfuming the air. I didn't feel like emptying the cider that night, so I repeated the trick Sunday evening.

The step I forgot on Sunday was to turn the heat off.

I woke up at 4 this morning, smelling something that smelled like carmelization carried a step further, and indeed, the moisture was gone from the pot, leaving a somewhat spongey disk. The cider had foamed up at the end of its life, making this disk about three inches thick. It reminded me a great deal of anti-cheesecake. Instead of a disk of dense white goodness, it's a disk of porous black evil.

Also, so much for making the house smell good. Whoops.

The good news is that nothing caught fire. Also, the pan in which I was heating the cider didn't get burned through. Also also, the disk of evil lifted out as one integral piece, making cleanup much easier than I feared.


This could have turned out a lot worse. Which might have more painfully taught me the lesson to remember to turn off the burners before going to bed. Hopefully the lesson sticks, anyway.
lake

ra-a-a-ain, I don't mind

Shortly after waking up to a food catastrophe (near disaster, really), the power went out. Thinking about it, this is another fortunate thing. Had the power gone out at, say, 3am, and not come back on before 11am, let's say, my house might have burned down. That would have been at least inconvenient.

They say not to try to cross water that's over roadways. Well, except for local newscasters who have been saying to be careful when you do it - either they're unfamiliar with flooding protocol, or they know that people (me) live in places where they (I) would be stranded under those rules.

My next door neighbor's been sending me IMs telling me to come home, that the roads are washing out in our area. I don't think I've ever left work early on account of rain before.