Last night was quite an exciting night in my little apartment. Outside you could hear the crack of the lightning and the sound of the rain as it poured down. It literally went from nice and clear to monsoon-like in seconds. So to keep myself busy I decided it was finally time to try out the Irish soda bread recipe from my mixer bible. All was going well until I went to take it out of the oven.
I folded the dish towel in half, opened the oven, reach in, grabbed the baking sheet and removed the bread from the oven carefully placing it on top of the stove. Little did I know that as I had reached into the oven, a string on the dish towel had touched the heating coil on the bottom of the oven and now my dish towel was on fire. It was over in seconds because the moment I saw it I shook it out. Nothing else caught on fire, I didn't get burned, but the dish towel, let's just say it's seen it's last day.
**A little side note. This is not the first time I have caught something on fire in my oven. Last time it was the sleeve of the bathrobe I was wearing at the time. Luckily it was only the sleeve and it wasn't my arm, but seriously I am beginning to think I should wear a fire proof suit when I bake. **
After the baking incident I was ready to relax for the evening. One of my closest friends just got back from her two year stint in the Peace Corps in Africa. As she and I were talking I decided to climb on to my bed so I could fully relax. And then I heard it . . . drip, drip, drip. Yup, not only was it pouring outside my apartment, but it had also started to rain inside my bedroom. Once again, not the first time this has happened so I searched the kitchen for a couple of buckets and called maintenance. Fortunately the rain quickly passed and I wasn't subjected to drip, drip, drop all night long.