Thursday, December 29, 2011

Burning Down the House

This week my brother and his wife are visiting us from NYC.  They have an affinity for fires in fireplaces as most NYC apartments do not have them.  Who knew?

Mr. Yoy put a fire on and my sister in law and I sat fireside and warmed ourselves.  It was awesome.  Mr. Yoy decided to run to Publix to get all the goodies for us to make s'mores.

Before he left, we asked him to stoke the fire.

He slide open the screen and used our grilling tools (cause that's how us Floridians stoke fires) to increase the burn.

Right before he left, our smoke detectors went off.  All four of them.  Loud. Deafening.

This is good when we have an actual fire.

This is bad when we don't have a fire, but have two sleeping Yoys.

One of the smoke detectors is conveniently located outside their bedrooms.

Oh please, don't let them wake up.

Who was I kidding?  I'm pretty sure our neighbors down the street heard them.

I fanned the detector with a pillow and it turned off.

Phew!

Mr. Yoy left.  The room became smokier and smokier. What in the world?

Is the flue closed?  


This was our first thought.  Like I said, we are all novices. The most I know about fireplaces is my dad cooked a bunch of birds with ours when we lived in St. Louis and then I cried as I watched them drop into the flames. Traumatic for a three year old, trust me.

Anyway, we ASSUMED this was not the case as the fire had been burning smoke-free already for almost an hour.

The smoke detector continued going on and off as one of us fanned the detector with a pillow.  The others ran around and opened all the doors and windows.  Our eyes were burning.

How have my kids not woken up?  Did I drug them before they went to sleep and just don't remember doing this?

I call Mr. Yoy and tell him to get his butt home ASAP. Our house was potentially on fire.

We made the executive decision to pour water on the fire to put it out.  This was probably like when I first moved to Atlanta and poured steaming hot water on my frozen car windshield.  I thought it was a good idea at the time.

Look, I grew up in Florida and know very little about all things cold.

If you have questions about old Canadian men wearing Speedos at Hollywood Beach, I'm your girl, but snow and ice paralyze me with fear.

Anyway, back to my crazy story.  My brother put the fire out.  The whole house was hazy and smelled awful.  Yeah, I know it is 45 degrees out, but all of our doors and windows were wide open.

Mr. Yoy came home.

He walked over to the fireplace and gave us the diagnosis.

The flue was closed.  It must have closed after the screen was opened and shut to stoke the fire.

We had a good nervous laugh about seriously almost burning this place down.

Two days out and the house still has a barbeque-y smell to it.

We will be taking a nice, long break from fireplacing.

But there was good news to my story.  Neither Yoy woke up.

Well, I guess that is good news, unless we actually have a fire...

Thank goodness for sound machines.

Houston, we have a problem!



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