Carpe Haven

Oh YES, I am aware that I brought this on myself.  First, I repeated that story about going helmet shopping with my sister (and ended up with a little umbrella on a hat-stick).  You’re probably thinking that the ghost of 1970’s feminism is what cursed me over the weekend, but in fact it was Rilke.  I was typing in a comment and called out to J., “Can I blaspheme a Rilke poem in the comments section of my blog?”  He said he didn’t see why not, and then things went in this order:  I finished typing, I yelled, “I did it!”  One minute passed, J. heard a terrible sound, a sound he refuses to describe in greater detail (for the best), minutes passed.  Imagine how confused you would be if you were, in one minute, sitting at your desk blaspheming Rilke and some time later you found yourself on the floor, being told not to be frightened, an ambulance was on the way?  Don’t be FRIGHTENED?  Also?  I was a 100% amnesiac, just like in a soap opera.  I couldn’t remember anything until I was told it.  There are some things I’m still unclear about, but one thing I’m quite sure of is that helmets are indeed our best friends, after badgers.  You will see from the photograph that I’m surrounded by loved ones in this picture:  My badger Milton, my helmet, my bicycle.  I don’t ride the bicycle, it’s art. 

Thank you all for your kindness and your loving concern.  I was treated extraordinarily well in the Durham Regional ER and by all the doctors and nurses there.  Scott flew to the hospital to be with me.  I’ve only recently discovered that he also ate an apple on the trip, which – HELLO – that seems like a choking hazard.  The Daughter dropped everything to come stay with Baby Augusten all day so John could be at the hospital.  His truck has a stick-shift; I hope he didn’t eat anything on the way over.  Thank you, too, to everyone who e-mailed or called.  You are all dear to me.

Published in: on September 23, 2008 at 2:52 pm  Comments (73)  


  1. You had an accident while blogging? And, you were wearing a helmet at the time? Oh my! Beautiful, badger, by the way.

    I am so glad you are ok.

  2. But Linda, you know what I never got around to? CHANGING MY AVATAR. Beware of dead German poets, that’s all I can say.

  3. I will remember that. 🙂

    My daughter is all torn up about her boyfriend’s accident and keeps going over “what might of happened” scenerios. I keep reminding her that is in the past so she has to let it go. And breathe. Maybe the accident happened so that you would NOT change your avatar. Hmmmm.

  4. Wait, did I miss the boyfriend’s accident? I’m sorry — there are still things I can’t remember.

  5. Friend of badgers, collector of decorative bikes, being attacked by dead German poets…Ms. Haven, never let anyone tell you that you DON’T lead an extraordinary life. Or that you don’t look fetching in a helmet.

    The most interesting part of my weekend was learning that my mom met my dad while working at a Lubriderm factory. Well, that and learning that you can suck the air out of a vat of Lubriderm lotion if you accidentally leave the pump on to go have beers.

    I suddenly have the urge to go trim my dog’s nails.

  6. wow, that is an odd scenario, but i am so glad you are alright. lucky to have had on a helmet.

    i have this friend who had a small boy (riley) and we used to be neighbors. everyday riley came out of the house across the street with a bright pink adult size helmet that he wore backwards. that paired with a diaper and snow boots, all summer. riley was just over this past weekend as we celebrated my son’s bday and i am certain it is thanks to his protective headgear that his head is still in tact. he tends to “lead with his head” as it is quite large. that is to say the head drives the body. he doesn’t wear the helmet anymore (dog got it), but apparently is still way into snow boots all year. he is a really cool kid.

    you should have seen him when the pinata broke!! with all the baseball bats flying, i should have mandated helmets for all children. no one was hurt, however, and a great time was had by young and old. helmets were absolutely enforced during the dirtbike ride attraction. the hayrides were helmet free, but i almost tossed (accidentally) a 5 year old. SIT DOWN you little rascal!

  7. Haven,

    So happy you’re okay. By your blog it’s clear that your medical scare did not in any way affect your sense of humor or your ability to type. Whew.

    Where’d you get a taxidermied badger?

  8. Glad you’re ok…and that phrases such as “to the bone,” “projectile [fill in something gross that should remain in one’s body], or “the size of a golf ball” were not included in the description of your scare. Do not mess with Rilke, he’s mean!

  9. Oh, there was plenty to be scared about without that ‘to the bone’ business. And I’m under the impression that with women such things are always compared to fruit; in men they are the size of, forgive me, balls.

    I should have clarified that I put on the helmet later. I WISH I’d been wearing it at the time.

  10. Didn’t Rilke say, “No great art has ever been made without the artist having known danger”? Well, oh my…it must apply to blogging, too. Haven, glad you’re okay.

  11. And Goethe wrote that the “dangers of life are infinite, and among them is safety.”

  12. I woke up really cranky from my nap. Jarvis came in my room three times with a Star Wars related question, waking his non-cuddly sister who escaped and was found cleaning the toilet bowl with daddy’s toothbrush. And then I saw this in my email, and my mood improved.

    I am glad you are ok…I was really worried! I kept checking back.

  13. Scott had to throw in the Geothe quotation because he dropped his apple and then ate it on the way to the hospital anyway. Because it was LEAKING.

    Oh, Kate. You are so funny and dear.

  14. This business of having a two year old the size of some kindergartners keeps me needing a helmet daily. Glad you are not any worse for the wear (is that a real saying?) and am I being nosy in asking what happened?

  15. Haven, I learned from the best.

    Caryl…I have one of those too! Total freak of nature!

  16. Smitten by the spirit of Rilke. Omigod. (I feel kinda bad because you and I were blogging about being “witchy” just before you were Smitten.) Quite honestly, Rilke has had that same effect on me more than once — all that damned introspection just makes one’s brain shut down. Let’s deny him altogether for now on. The old geezer should have gotten more exercise and fresh air.

  17. Love that brain bucket, Haven. Love it more that you’re back. You’re really going to have to be more careful in front of that computer, ease up on the keys a little, take that delete button a little less seriously, stay away from the end key, watch the shift — it’s tricky –and for God’s sake, don’t LOCK UP THOSE CAPS!

  18. One time I was sitting at my desk, wearing high heel shoes. It was an insurance office so it makes sense, really. Anyway, I used the pointy heel of one shoe to scratch the inside of the other foot whilst that foot was inside its own shoe.A few minutes later when I stood up I forgot my feet were in this awkward position, I sort of wobbled back and forth, and fell over without even bending. I could have used a helmet then.

  19. Right, George?!? I already killed my MacBook Pro and now I nearly killed myself!

    Caryl, thank you. I do appreciate hearing about other human foibles.

  20. OMG. I think I had a similar experience when I wrote a blog several months ago and quoted Rilke, except the part about going to the ER. I think I lost a several minutes somehow, but can’t be sure because I was alone at the time. I seemed to lose my memory for a time though, and completely forgot what I was doing.

    There was also grief involved though, but now I’m thinking it may have been the ghost of Rilke.


    I mean really weird.

    Here’s the post:

  21. Once I was at a church conference and I hopped into the shower. The water was scalding hot and I panicked and crashed THROUGH the hard plastic shower curtain that was molded in waves and landed with my head banging against the wall and my thigh crushed against the metal ridge of the shower. I ended up with a glorious bruise that completely encompassed my upper thigh. I have a picture of it somewhere. My roommate snapped it while I was sitting on the toilet.

    The best part? When I told my pastor he told me I should have reaching THROUGH the boiling rain and just turned the shower off. Oh yeah. Thanks Chuk. You are the soul of compassion.

  22. I have a crashing through plastic shower doors story. I wish I would have blacked it out, but it haunts me on a regular basis. heh.

  23. …I say two hoots and holler for Mr. J for scooping up her authorass and two (count ’em) tips of the helmet for Scott and daughter for picking up the pieces.

  24. SO glad you’re okay, Haven. I was tempted to drop you an email but thought it might be best to give you time and leave you alone. Protect that precious head of yours.

    That’s one killer badger. When I was fifteen I had a raccoon that I brought up after my boyfriend found it in the woods and brought it home to me. I named her Martha Berry because she had a prissy expression on her face just like a girl I went to grade school with, and fed her with a doll’s bottle because she was so small. She grew huge and loving and nibbled my toes to wake me up at night for play. One night while I slept she climbed the drapes and then tried to poop in the cat box on the floor and when I woke up she had shat all down the drapes. When she grew up I let her go, and every night she came home to eat when I called her, until it was time to hibernate, and then she went off to do her raccoon thing for evermore. I wish I could find my picture of her with me because it looks amazingly like you and your badger, only minus the helmet.

    Bottom line, you’re okay, and that’s all that matters.

  25. So it’s agreed then: no Rilke blaspheming for the foreseeable future? Some ghosts are just control freaks. — So glad your scare was brief and treatable, Haven.

    Caryl, when I next find myself with the vapors, I will conjure that image.

  26. also: so that IS a taxidermed badger? I wondered why it was kissing your face instead of eating it.

  27. Man, oh man but you had the teeming faithful concerned.

    As my dear, dear mother likes to say: “you’re about as independent as a hog on ice”.

    No, I do not know what that means. But it’s the only thing that came to mind after reading your post.

    Having had my own ride-in-an-ambulance-I-don’t-remember episode a few months ago I have this to share: thank the sweet, dimple-cheeked savior for Versed.

    Am happied you’re on the mend. I’ll move you down a few notches on the prayer list.

  28. See? Now that’s how rumors get started, Carrie. I made the “taxidermied badger” statement. Knowing that Haven is a member of the Varmint Patrol, it was only a guess. But there’s nothing more entertaining than a good game of “Telephone” to keep things moving …

    Shelly, I pray for the day that Versed is sold over-the-counter. Drugs Are Our Friends.

  29. Oh Jodi – I don’t know about that Versed OTC! eep!!

    I think that the desire to abuse would just be too strong. Maybe even more than with narcotics or benzos. I mean, really, who wouldn’t want to have some drug-induced amnesia every once in a while?

    I shudder to imagine!

  30. Aw, Shelly, lighten up. I was just kidding. Mostly.

  31. I just looked up Versed. Don’t anyone take it during the last trimester of pregnancy! YIPES.

  32. Did anyone figure out how to remove grease stains from silk? Where is Suzanne??

  33. My little guy was on versed when he was hospitalized for what was later diagnosed as Toxic Shock – and we hope he never remembers those few days in NICU.

    BUT…talk about opening a door for abuse. I wish I had been on it then too, I’d like to forget that experience.

  34. Haven, I just checked John Crowley’s blog. He’s reading at the 92nd Street Y in Manhattan sometime soon, and he’ll be reading from his New Novel due for publication next June!

  35. OMG Haven!!! Good thing you had that helmet on!!!
    whew! Sorry you had your accident!

  36. Jodi – I was projecting. Sorry. I know if I had Versed handily available I’d be tempted to do a “data dump”, if you know what I mean.

    It’s a powerful & absolutely necessary amnesiac.

    ’nuff said.

    Hey – I’m sure it’s been discussed to death, but Ms. HV – were you aware of Crowley’s “Little, Big” anniversary edition coming out? It looks beautiful. I wish I could have been one of the lucky few to have the lettered edition where Crowley HANDWRITES your favorite passge (up to 350 words) so you can frame it. It’s lavishly illustrated & a true keepsake.


  37. Sorry – was remiss in not giving those interested the link to the Crowley Special:

  38. Haven, I was just thinking that if you cannot account for that period of time maybe you were, um, abducted. It happens, you know. (shudders…)

  39. Linda! You are clever!!!

  40. okay, miss haven wasnt wearing the helmet when the Accident occured. she isn’t that witchy. which is GOOD. had she known the accident was going to occur, i dont think she would have been at her laptop. i think she would have been sitting in the ER Psychic Unit, where people who just know something is about to happen to them recline. we have those in california. organic snacks are served and everyone writes out their living will while they wait, and they also braid garlic and sing Kumbaya. true.
    i recently bought a Diamonique ring on QVC and thought well this would look great ion my middle finger. fact is, it barely fit on my ring finger, but trust me toPUSH THE ENVLEOPE. within one minute of jamming the Diamonique 2-carat tw round-cut Ideal stone on my middle finger, it had swol;len to hte size of a lewd carrot. i began to panoic, as the finger was also turning black. BLACK. i was at work at the time. aftertryiong everything to get it off and only makingit worse, i walked eight blocks to the SFFD, where thhree very nice firemen cut the ring off my hand. and that’s when i knew i was the most ridiculous woman in the world. not longafterward, i wore a pair of tennis shoes without socks and hobbled myself for a week. and they were just the cutest little pinkslipon tennis shoes, nothing you would suspect of such carnage. SAME WITH THAT SHINEY PRETTY RING. yes, i can turn anything into a weapon of self destruction.

    haven? perhaps it would be best to not even reference anyone who isn;t alive for oh lets say, the next year. an interesting exercise, and a kind ofinsurance policy against BAD BONGOS. none of us are well enough for you to be unwell. since you went down i’ve made a mockery of my own life, and i question whether i have the skill or the authority to even cut my son’s new school pictures on the lines. i mean, really. just farm it ALL OUT.i don;t want you to even look up a STAIRCASE, much less be sourcing quotes, or changing anything in any way. just. you know. just, um, at your ease,soldier.

  41. re; how toi get a grease stain out of a satin tablecloth.

    OH MY GOD. LISTEN PEOPLE, AND THINK; there is no such thing as a satin tablecloth. do you know why? think about it.

    DUDES. it would SLIDE RIGHT OFF the table. god! i love this crowd. where were you when i was selling UNDISCOVERED PLANETS/ hmmmmmmmmmmmm?

  42. Suzanne, you are my Lucille Ball TWIN.

  43. Suzanne,

    Thank you! You have saved us!! FYI: your grease-stain-on-satin comment is a METAPHOR for It’s Getting Too Effing Serious in Here. At least, it has been in MY book since you wrote it.

  44. well, here’s anopther one. THE MADAM ALEXANDER WIZARD OF OZ DOLLS ARE UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLY STUPENDOUS. and misscake was kind enough to point out that they were available as a complete, unopened SET on ebay. thats right! ALL TWELVE, INCLUDING THE WINKIE GUARD AND THE LOLLIPOP GUILD GIRL. naturally i hit ADD TO CART and now they are mine. i just know they are goping to inform my work. and so CLEVER and TINY and toto comes in a miniscule BASKET. OH MY GOD,JUST OFF THE CHARTS GREAT.

  45. Suze, I think you’re entirely right about not quoting dead men, but who does that leave me? Scott? And also before I came back to visit here I was answering an e-mail from Robert and quoted Nietszche. I swear, I’m like a criminal with a very high rate of re . . . .what’s that word? I backslide, in the former parlance.

    Now I see nothing in that photograph to would suggest that my badger isn’t living. Except for the not-eating-my-face thing. HOWEVER, an argument based on what is lacking has a name. Fortunately, I’ve forgotten that too. I’ll ask Daughter tomorrow.

  46. RECIDIVISM. Oh yes, it’s all coming back to me now. With a day or so I’ll be able to TURN MY HEAD AGAIN.

  47. HAHAHA Thanks ya’ll for making my boring 3 hr Psychology class more interesting. 🙂

    Haven, while reading SGUOTC, the story about coveting treasures made me just about die from laughing. Especially part about wanting the instrument case for the crushed purple velvet. HAHAHA I can soooo relate.

    I wanted to play the drums really bad but I knew my mother, and my step father (who fashioned himself after a Nazi Germany POW Camp Commandant) wouldn’t let me, so I picked a flute. A Flute! I hated the flute, but I picked the flute out of fear of drum rejection. I was pretty bad, and I finally gave up, and went home crying, after my teacher told me my lips were too big to play the flute. Can you imagine what that does to a 10yr old? I NEVER got over it.

    I wanted to keep the flute, not for the stupid flute, but for the cool case. I already had a bunch of “treasures” hidden in it, but my mom made me give it back.

    I never got over that either.

  48. I ordered one of the posters (beautiful) but not one of the handwritten passages. Although I’m here to tell ya: John Crowley’s handwriting is as gorgeous as his prose.

  49. Sorry for your accident Haven. Are you sure that Badger isn’t a brain eating zombie, or possessed by Rilke?. Take care of yourself, I only have one of your books left to read, then I have to read crap,..Stori Telling, not on my squirrels left nut. Get better there would be a HUGE hole in the universe, if you where not in it.
    Susan g in Oregon

  50. Aliens Ate My Brain and Left Kidney — well bless you a thousand times. Thank you so much.

    Particles, that sounds like seizure activity to me. Or else, obvs, aliens. Pay attention to yourself, maybe talk to someone? Tomorrow I see NEUROSCIENTISTS, and I’m hoping they have some secret information about string theory.

  51. haven YES. QUOTE SCOTT AND JOHN. THATS PLENTY. oh, and quote people who dont exist. PLEASE. you must get back to your making-shit-up ROOTS, because i dont want to THINK about what’snext. i mean, DUDE. dumb it WAY THE FUCK DOWN. you’re wearing a huge red target on yo head. don;t mess with god, he is the same god that slaughtered ZILLIONS. FOR NOTHING AT ALL. A FEW CANDLES lined up JUST SO. BOOM! AND UNLEAVENED BREAD/ KAZAM!!! please. please.

  52. Suzanne. Girlfriend. The Madame A. Wizard of O. dolls are from McDonalds HAPPY MEALS? You crazy. You R a metaphor. BTW, how’s the ring-free finger? And what are you planning to do with a new, sliced Diamonique ring from QVC? Any cute guys at the fire station?

  53. i cant tell you how calm john sounded this morning when i called to check on your Repeat Offender ass. he is most unequivicably the calmest man i know. perhaps — just for the next few days — he should only touch you with a lightning rod. just a suggestion, until you learn.

  54. when you see the neuroscients for that EKG/ i want you to close your eyes and channel THE WINKIE GUARD from the madam alexander wizard of oz doll collection. okay/ can you do me that one little favor? i really ask so little of you.

  55. well, jodi, of course despite my huge, distended and blackened middle finger i immediately caed the fire station and i noticed that no,there were no cute firemen. if there had been, i’d be writing this from the tillerman’s lap. SOME OF US ARE STILL SINGLE. but it’s amazing how little i cared about their faces and so on, as long as they found the special wire cutters. which they did find. oh fireman are amazing, but i’m here to tell you that even the plainest firemen, even the ones with hunchbacks/ they have women flinging themselves at their big black boots ALL DAY LONG AND ALL NIGHT LONG. you could never turn your back on one. ever.

  56. it’s all at quark level…that’s where god and duke neuroscientists do their best work.

  57. Haven, Are you a Gemini? Because the whole Living-or-Dead-Badger, “HOWEVER, an argument based on what is lacking has a name” thread is so both-sides-of-the-same-coin. Which reminds me, I have some more questions about “Iodine.”

  58. Suzanne: Sorry for your luck on all counts. =0( Order yourself more bling to make you feel better.

  59. Here, Suzanne. Try this:

    And maybe buy a BRACELET this time …?

  60. no, jodi,.i cannot consider the hollywood stars faux gem collection. see, i suffer from brand loyalty. so i could never cheat on QVC. it’s just too Oh My Man I Love Him So, from Funny Girl. you just know the fanny brice character got back with omar sharriff at the end. and scarlett and rhett also reunited. they too suffered from brand loyalty. oh it’s a curse.

  61. to Badger: I meant no offense. You appear exceedingly animated — it’s that I’ve read very few accounts of badgers tolerating intact humans. You have excellent taste.

    to Suzanne: I am staging my next incident in a California ER. And did you notice if all the firemen had moustaches? I’ve never met one without, and I’m thinking either they are far too occupied saving lives to note and follow trends, OR, it’s a handy filter when breathing in heavy smoke.

  62. well, i think the moustaches are a disguise. they hide their smiles, the snmiles that say I Get All The Tail I Want, Even If I Have No Personality And Six Divorces And One Testicle.

  63. PRIVATE TO THE WOMEN AND GAYS IN THIS THREAD: I used to work out at the downtown Y with the Durham Police Department, and believe me when I say there has never been a group of more intimidating, cut, tall, walnut-skinned honies on this planet. Then one night (it was late, the night manager just put on any musics he wanted, and within minutes, everyone in the weight room was singing, passionately, “Let’s Stay Together,” by Al Green, and it was nothing but pure religiosity.

    On another night, I snagged an alzheimer’s dude wandering down a busy street and got him up my porch. I wrapped him in a blanket and called the sheriff’s department and the fire dudes, and when they arrived I was once again surrounded by profound beauty and what appeared to be innocence, as if they had been nursed on the milk of human kindness and then devoted their lives to altruism. It was SHOCKING. Plus the MUSCLES.

  64. Now I feel all fainty. Whew!

  65. Dearest Auntie of Mine
    Glad you are feeling a little better. I was ready to jump in the car and head to NC if need be. I’ve probably asked a thousand times about you. Make sure you let us know your test results.
    Love you.

  66. Abs, I feared if I didn’t shape up and get out of the hospital, I’d be greeted with the Indiana convoy. My next scan is at 10:30 in the morning; discussed with a doctor at 3:00. So I’ll know something in the afternoon, like if my driver’s license is going to be revoked. Love you.


  67. Haven,
    PLEASE have Kat let me know how things turn out for you! I did leave a voicemail, but you know how busy her life is… 🙂
    Love you all,

  68. I love stories (only if no one was killed, of bizarre household accidents, because I feel NOT SO STUPID) . . . I am LOL at the various stories, here a 2 examples of my accidents:


    “Stove Face”

    I was in my robe in the afternoon (no comment) baking cookies in the oven and cooking on the stovetop. My sister called – it was one of the intense talks wherein you cannot hang-up/crisis . . . there was a beeping happening . . . I hold onto the cordless phone and check the smoke alarm…nada . . . the cell phones . . . nada . . . could it be the built-in (above-the-stove) microwave (we have replaced it twice)????? . . . so I climb up on the counter next to the stove (in my LONG robe, still clutching the phone) and reach across the upper cabinets to open the doors, move the I-NEVER-USE-THIS-CRAP-BECAUSE-I-AM-TOO-SHORT), grab a hold of the microwave plug and yank . . . .

    The following events happen simultaneously:

    1. I trip on the robe
    2. I fall onto the stove
    3. I catch myself on the oven door handle, but it starts to open and I am falling into the hot oven
    4. So I fling my body on top of the stove
    5. SMASH my face on one of the pots
    6. Land on my feet on the floor
    7. Still clutching the phone
    8. Put my hand over my mouth and lean forward towards the floor so that the chips of teeth and gushing blood spill on the floor
    9. Tell my sister “I think I have to go now” . . .

    This really happened. We still don’t know what the mystery beep was. I spent hours in emergency dental/doctor and the ONLY thing I cared about was that my front tooth was fixed so that I could go to the Alanis Morrisette concert the next night without looking like the middle-aged Midwestern hick I really am. I had actually managed to gouge my entire bottom teeth through the lower lip (under the lip) . . . everybody thought my husband beat me – he doesn’t have to. My then 10 year-old daughter watched this entire event transpire, and asked in a wimpery voice: “MOMMY???” like I had just turned into an alien or something.

    Note: IF my wordpress avatar works, you can see what a beautiful reconstruction was done on my “Stove Face”


    Blithely, I decide to

    1. Open a bottle of wine to sip on whilst cooking, using one of the new-fangled bunny ear openers
    2. My husband is on a rare phone call to his brother, so I decide this is something I can do for myself, (he actually likes to open wine bottles and pour my wine for me, what a gem)
    3. The cork on the Covey Run wine bottle (which is rubbery and waxy) decides to turn instead of allowing the screw to imbed . . . so I think – I WILL PUT SOME WEIGHT INTO THIS
    4. My pinky finger gets stuck in the mechanism, just the fatty pad part AND I CAN’T GET IT OUT! It feels worse than childbirth and I am HOWLING – SCREAMING – “Help me, Help me, Don, help me” – – –
    5. The KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR comes tearing down the stairs (thinking I am being, literally, murdered) and just stares at me (he is still on the phone)
    6. I continue howling, he starts jumping up and down, what? What? #%))#)# – I point to the finger so he, puts the phone on the counter (without hanging up), clutches the bottle/my hand, puts it between his legs (not a bad place) and STARTS TWISTING THAT THING
    7. After seconds of agony he gets it off and I picture my pinky hanging off the corkscrew – but – it is just a little pink. I thought I would have hamburger dangling from my tendons.
    8. During the whole procedure I can hear his brother, Steven, screaming on the phone ‘what’s a’ matter, what’s happening?’

    For about ½ year I couldn’t feel that pinky down to the 2nd knuckle – and it is numb on the pad, when I type I hit QQAAAAZZZZ, like, 5 x each . . .. That happened 4 years ago.

    I HAVE 3 MORE KITCHEN ACCIDENTS AS BIZARRE AS THIS . . . thank goodness we moved!

    Hope somebody enjoyed that!

  69. I don’t know if I would necessarily say “enjoyed” — ha! But, it definitely got my mind off of the lame “comforting” “speech” Bush just gave to the nation.

  70. Sher…those were glorious.

  71. i need to know about the other kitchen accidents. please.

  72. Oh dear –

    Here are two more kitchen stories:


    After visiting my mother (who is a caterer/wedding cake decorator) and seeing that she stores items below her oven in a drawer there, I decide to maximize my “storage” below my oven as well (we had a small kitchen in a great house we had while I was finishing my degree, very “temporary”).

    So I remove the stupid pans under the oven and place baking sheets, pizza stones and my brand new Pampered Chef Cutting Board . . . in the “storage” drawer. (Yes, I see you all shaking your heads . . . ).

    We go about our life and I cook dinner and all the kids and babies are in bed above the kitchen and we smell something “odd” – I check everything I can think of but nothing is burning, turned on, etc.

    I go in the kitchen to get my water for bed and there are plumes of black smoke rising out of the oven – it smells caustic . . . THE KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR comes at my calls of distress (an almost daily event), opens the oven door and IT BURSTS INTO FLAMES, THE FLAMES LICKING THE INNOCENT MICROWAVE AND CABINETS ABOVE.

    Quick on his feet, Donny, the Darling Hubby, grabs the sprayer from the sink and douses the flames – the first floor is filled with black, greasy smoke and rising up the stairs.

    The big kids come down and had grabbed the baby (whose nursery was LITERALLY above the stove) and we pour out of the house screaming with smoke following in our wake.

    At this point we still didn’t know what had happened . . .

    When we finally got back in the house and it was safe to clean, etc. we opened the drawer below the stove and realize I had “broiled” the melamane? cutting board into a liguid, waxy mess – (it was actually quite beautiful and it ended being an art piece).

    That one was scary because if I hadn’t been in the kitchen getting the water, I am sure I would have burned the entire house and family. Scary, and not so funny.


    Ok – this one is just embarrassing . . .

    We had a gorgeous blue-blood Himaylayan white cat named Dante’s Inferno . . .

    One unfortunate side-effect of this lovely fur was that he would get poop caught in his fur around his, you know . . .

    So rather than doing the bathing, softening, pulling thing . . . I decide one morning he just needs a trim there so that it would quit happening and it would be faster to cut the poop out than to bathe (I was on my way to school and just didn’t have time).

    So, I locate some small, very sharp scissors, hold the cat in my left arm and open his legs and start to work. Obviously, Dante’s Inferno did not LIKE this procedure and wiggled. I held on harder and tried to be faster.

    Somehow in the struggle the tip of the scissors got caught under my thick, wide wedding band and the struggle continues as I try not to DROP the Inferno . . .

    More dripping blood (looks interesting on the white fur of the Inferno) . . .

    Sorry folks, but I had gotten “down to the bone” and cut through the entire webbing between my middle and ring finger . . .

    After stitches, pain killers, tetanus shot . . . I decided to skip philosophy that day . . . Dante’s Inforno had conquered me for the day . . .

    That was the slowest healing wound I have ever had . . . and, almost, the most embarrassing. I have sagas of cell phones as well . . .

    Note: since the previously mentioned “stove” face I have also had to return to the dentist to fix the same chipped tooth and that occurred when Donny, the Hunkie Hubby, chipped my tooth with his newly installed braces during a compromising encounter . . . my doctors, dentists, etc. – they just stare at me like I am an alien as a I cackle madly.

  73. ouch and double ouch

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