A lot of times I think I’m not very smart. If you agree, please keep it to yourself.
This past Thursday night I may have topped locking my keys in my truck. This time it was about flames shooting out of the oven.
I’m glad Nancy wasn’t home when this happened. I was fixing dinner, which is my Thursday night duty since she is open late at her store on this day of the week.
I was trying to outdo myself this time. The menu was to be French-cut green beans, sweet potato fries, garden salad and a couple of small rib-eye steaks—I bought one and cut it in half.
Everything was going great until I started broiling the steaks. I thought it would be real smart to use aluminum foil on the broiler pan so there wouldn’t be such a mess to clean up afterwards.
So I put the steaks under the broiler and walked into the living room to watch a little TV news.
Next thing I knew, flames were shooting out of the oven about a foot and half high. My first thought was that the place was going to burn down. I quickly slammed the oven door shut and the flames went out.
As soon as I opened it back up, the flames shot out again. So I slammed the door shut again.
This time I turned the broiler off and let it cool down a bit. That was enough to make it possible to pull everything out and remove the grease-covered aluminum foil and let the broiler pan do its job. No problems after that.
After Nancy arrived she asked what in the world I had been doing. I told her what happened and it is possible that my creativity may be over. She said from now on I should just make pancakes—something I know how to do.
Something positive came out of the event with the flames: Our smoke alarm batteries were dead and they are now replaced.
Son Dan and I text during nearly every KU basketball game. He knows I watch on delay so doesn’t comment on how the game is going, at least not enough to make me think the Jayhawks are winning or losing.
Saturday’s game was different. Dan texted me to see if I remembered Phil Forte—the dad of Oklahoma State player Phil Forte—who lived in Hillsboro in the very late ’80s or early ’90s. Dan said he mowed Forte senior’s lawn while they lived in the house just south of Greenhaw Pharmacy.
Forte junior probably wasn’t around then yet.
If anyone knows about this family living in Hillsboro, I would like to hear about it.
Our oldest grandson, Alex, turned 15 a few weeks ago. We called him on his birthday but he was pretty busy with friends being over, so he said he would call us the next day.
So he calls the next day and we have a nice long conversation. He talks about his success with the debate team at Grady High School and how he lost on purpose in a recent match so another teammate could also qualify for state.
He said that he and his friends sat around the table drinking tea and discussing a philosophy book he had received for Christmas. They were forming a book club to discuss philosophy and psychology.
When he hung up, we both looked at each other and said, “Who was that kid?”
If you wish to share your comments or ideas, my e-mail address is email@example.com.