Most of our readers have probably heard of our close brush with a house fire last weekend.  The story would be much more fun to tell if it was caused by an electrical fault, a plane crashing on our roof, or an angry neighbour gone whacko with a barrel of gasoline.  Instead it was completely our own fault.  And it started with the famous last words, “Don’t let me forget to turn that burner down…”

Three hours later we got back home from church.


It’s amazing there was no fire.  Probably because the lid was on the pot, so the chicken never got enough oxygen to actually get any flames going.  It’s amazing how much smoke one little chicken can make though.  The smoke was all through the house (aided no doubt by the furnace) and our eyes still sting when we walk in the house (especially the kitchen).

The good news is it’s all covered by insurance.  A cleaning crew came in today to take a look, brought in two huge hepa air purifiers, and removed the over-the-range microwave to try to clean it (they don’t have much confidence it’s salvageable, but that’s fine by us because we’d rather replace it with a regular range hood).  They’re coming back tomorrow to scrub down everything in the kitchen.  

We’ve done loads and loads of laundry and completely cleaned the kids’ rooms from top to bottom ourselves, and our room is next.  Pillows are at the cleaner’s and jackets to follow shortly.  We’re checking with the insurance if they’ll cover detailing the car, as it smells too.

Quite the experience!  It has been a tiring and stressful week of cleaning and phone calling, but we’re thanking God for keeping us all safe and that the damage wasn’t worse.  We could easily have come home from church to firetrucks and a burnt-out shell.

Here are the kids showing off by one of the big air scrubbers:

By the air filter