Friday, 11 October 2013
Six Eggs and I
By Johna Ferguson
I think I am a place looking for an accident to happen. Seems like at least once a week something unusual occurs to me. Now I actually know this one is one I caused myself - me and my stupid lack of a mind.
I was eating lunch the other day at my co-op. While sitting there I got to thinking about what I might prepare for my dinner. I wondered if I should go shopping when I went out to my exercise class later.
I stopped eating and checked the refrigerator and decided I had enough ingredients for a big tossed salad. I had lettuce, tomatoes, some left over salmon.
I thought that a few hard boiled eggs might just make it more tasty and full of more protein so I took six eggs out of the fridge and placed them in a pan of cold water. I put it on the stove but only turned the burner on low since I wanted them at first to heat up slowly so they wouldn't crack and leak the eggs all over the pan.
I then finished my lunch and realized I'd dawdled too long and would be late for my class unless I really hurried. I left my lunch dishes on the table, grabbed my coat and dashed out the door.
After my hour class, I was invited to help celebrate one of the retirement home women's 91st birthday. One guest had made honest-to-goodness. New York-style cheesecake - my most dearly loved dessert. So of course I must stay and have a piece with a cup of coffee.
After that I decided to go visit my husband at our condo just across the street but when I called, I got no answer so decided to just head back to my co-op.
As I took the elevator down from the 10th floor I suddenly realized I had left the stove on with the eggs to boil. Goodness, I'd been gone over two hours so I actually dashed out the door and ran the two blocks to home.
I was greeted by a very dense smoke in my unit but no fire, thankfully. I turned off the stove and immediately put the completely blacked pan in the sink and turned to survey the mess.
Of course the six eggs had exploded, and I mean everywhere - on the stove, on the fridge next to it, all over the floor and on the wall on the other side of the stove.
Of course they were all cooked so cleaning them up was actually very easy; they just brushed off the walls and fridge. The stove is a glass-topped one so it was simple to clean, just wipe up all the crumbs of egg, and the floor was easy to sweep.
I opened all the windows wide to air the place out and even brought in the big summer fan to help blow the smoke outside. I wondered why the smoke alarm hadn't gone off; I would have to check that later.
But my pride was hurt most of all. I wondered just what was I thinking to do something so stupid. Was I actually loosing my marbles or what?
Well only time will tell. If I have anymore episodes like that then I think I must need a keeper but hopefully it was a one act show. One I won't pay to see again.
[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]