Just Call Me Katniss
OK - so every now and then I'm sure I'll share a "keeping it real" post. I'm sure they'll have to do with my mistakes and mishaps that make life interesting, and remind me that God's grace is real and apparent in my daily life.
So as I remember the event, all I keep thinking is, "I'm the girl on fire." (All Hunger Game fans will appreciate this reference.)
I guess I'll start at the beginning. One of the things I loved about our house is that we have gas logs in the fireplace. Hubby doesn't do real firewood fires, so this is the closest I'll get. I looked all through the appliance handbooks the previous owner left us, but to no avail... I couldn't find any instructions for the gas logs. So, I did the next best thing - YOUTUBE, right? I watched several tutorials on different types of logs and I think I've got the hang of this.
So, I get the key to turn the gas on/off and a new lighter. The lighter was child-proof, but I tested it out and felt confident it would light quickly. This was my first mistake. My 2nd mistake was not opening the flue. I totally intended to, but I skipped this step. So I'll get to the good part... I turn on the gas, try to light the fire again and again, but it's just not keeping a flame... until the entire fireplace is engulfed in a swarm of flames. I close my eyes (of course), and open my eyes to see flames AROUND MY FACE!
From here, I'm not sure about the exact time and sequence that the following events that took place. Jacob says that I twirled around the room, screaming. Then I turn to him and yell, "Am I ok???" He's looking at me with a startled, confused face, "yes?"
"Am I on fire?" I clarify.
"No?!?!"
"Am I burned?!!" I screech.
"No?!?!"
Then I check the fireplace and the find the fire is contained, where it should be. Then Jacob asks, "Mom, what's that smell?"
"It's my hair! It's burned!" as I'm swatting ash out of my hair.
Then, the fire alarms start screaming. I'm frantic. I decide that first I need to turn off the gas to the fire. I'm not sure why, but it seemed important at the time. I'm sure it was because I was suddenly keenly aware of the unpredictability and danger of fire in general. However, the key is not in the notch anymore, and I can't find it anywhere. I'm pleading with Jacob to help me find it. "I'm looking, I'm looking!" was his response to my continual pleas. We search everywhere, but we can't find it.
Side note: Joelle is sleeping in our room, not disturbed by the alarms or hysterics in the slightest. Juliette is on the couch, also not affected by the "noise" (she was safely snuggled on the couch - not about to roll off or anything). Jerrell is out of town.
I'm praying that God will help me find the key. He often helps me out when I'm looking for things that I've lost. I find the key under the couch and turn off the fire. I open all the doors and windows thinking how I could ever explain why our fire alarm is going off if a concerned neighbor asked. Thank goodness, no one did. I was not prepared to face the reality of what just happened.
The fire alarms finally stopped wailing after a few minutes and I sat stunned on the couch. Poor Jacob went to wake Joelle up and tell her what had happened. I took Juliette into my room and they snuggled with her while I went to the bathroom to assess the damage. I brush out the ash and broken hair scatters the sink, but it looks ok. Even after my shower and blow dry my hair - I can't tell that anything drastic has happened, besides the lingering smell (described by my niece as "it smells like brown", and nephew, "it smells like burn").
The first adult I admit what happened to is my sister. This is followed shortly by a frantic text from my dad asking me to send him a picture of my hair.
It took me several hours to process what happened and we didn't admit to Jerrell what happened until the next day. In the end I'm very thankful that nothing but my pride, and maybe a few hairs, were singed.
I'm pretty sure Katniss would not have agreed with how I frightened my children, sister, and father. But then again, she wasn't ACTUALLY in flames. Flames people! Actual fire!
For the record, I decided to go for it again and I successfully lit the fire the same day. I knew that if I didn't do it, I'd be afraid of it for the rest of my life.
So maybe I am as brave as Katniss Everdeen. :)
So as I remember the event, all I keep thinking is, "I'm the girl on fire." (All Hunger Game fans will appreciate this reference.)
I guess I'll start at the beginning. One of the things I loved about our house is that we have gas logs in the fireplace. Hubby doesn't do real firewood fires, so this is the closest I'll get. I looked all through the appliance handbooks the previous owner left us, but to no avail... I couldn't find any instructions for the gas logs. So, I did the next best thing - YOUTUBE, right? I watched several tutorials on different types of logs and I think I've got the hang of this.
So, I get the key to turn the gas on/off and a new lighter. The lighter was child-proof, but I tested it out and felt confident it would light quickly. This was my first mistake. My 2nd mistake was not opening the flue. I totally intended to, but I skipped this step. So I'll get to the good part... I turn on the gas, try to light the fire again and again, but it's just not keeping a flame... until the entire fireplace is engulfed in a swarm of flames. I close my eyes (of course), and open my eyes to see flames AROUND MY FACE!
From here, I'm not sure about the exact time and sequence that the following events that took place. Jacob says that I twirled around the room, screaming. Then I turn to him and yell, "Am I ok???" He's looking at me with a startled, confused face, "yes?"
"Am I on fire?" I clarify.
"No?!?!"
"Am I burned?!!" I screech.
"No?!?!"
Then I check the fireplace and the find the fire is contained, where it should be. Then Jacob asks, "Mom, what's that smell?"
"It's my hair! It's burned!" as I'm swatting ash out of my hair.
Then, the fire alarms start screaming. I'm frantic. I decide that first I need to turn off the gas to the fire. I'm not sure why, but it seemed important at the time. I'm sure it was because I was suddenly keenly aware of the unpredictability and danger of fire in general. However, the key is not in the notch anymore, and I can't find it anywhere. I'm pleading with Jacob to help me find it. "I'm looking, I'm looking!" was his response to my continual pleas. We search everywhere, but we can't find it.
Side note: Joelle is sleeping in our room, not disturbed by the alarms or hysterics in the slightest. Juliette is on the couch, also not affected by the "noise" (she was safely snuggled on the couch - not about to roll off or anything). Jerrell is out of town.
I'm praying that God will help me find the key. He often helps me out when I'm looking for things that I've lost. I find the key under the couch and turn off the fire. I open all the doors and windows thinking how I could ever explain why our fire alarm is going off if a concerned neighbor asked. Thank goodness, no one did. I was not prepared to face the reality of what just happened.
The fire alarms finally stopped wailing after a few minutes and I sat stunned on the couch. Poor Jacob went to wake Joelle up and tell her what had happened. I took Juliette into my room and they snuggled with her while I went to the bathroom to assess the damage. I brush out the ash and broken hair scatters the sink, but it looks ok. Even after my shower and blow dry my hair - I can't tell that anything drastic has happened, besides the lingering smell (described by my niece as "it smells like brown", and nephew, "it smells like burn").
The first adult I admit what happened to is my sister. This is followed shortly by a frantic text from my dad asking me to send him a picture of my hair.
It took me several hours to process what happened and we didn't admit to Jerrell what happened until the next day. In the end I'm very thankful that nothing but my pride, and maybe a few hairs, were singed.
I'm pretty sure Katniss would not have agreed with how I frightened my children, sister, and father. But then again, she wasn't ACTUALLY in flames. Flames people! Actual fire!
For the record, I decided to go for it again and I successfully lit the fire the same day. I knew that if I didn't do it, I'd be afraid of it for the rest of my life.
So maybe I am as brave as Katniss Everdeen. :)
What a funny story (now...knowing everything was okay and you--or the kids--weren't hurt)! I'm impressed by your bravery for trying again--and the gorgeous fire does look like a success! Thanks for sharing real life, friend!! =)
ReplyDeleteLove it. And...glad you're okay! :) :) :)
ReplyDeletewow. I wouldn't have looked for instructions or watched youtube videos, as Ben well knows. I would have just thought, if the previous owners figured it out, then I can. And, looks like the baby is a safe distance away...poof, I'd be bald.
ReplyDelete