Four Feet More

It was a rainy weekend here at Chez Four Feet More, and a few of us are sick (yep, I caught the cold too), so we decided to stay indoors most of the time and try to recuperate. However, staying indoors can be boring, so Jeff and I had the brilliant idea of spicing things up with a surprise living room picnic for the kids.

Jeff went shopping, and I set the scene. Blanket on the floor in front of the couch, picnic basket with various items in the garage for Jeff to fill with food after he returned home, and a fire blazing in the fireplace (built with a Duraflame log and the charred remains of some real logs left over from the previous evening).

The picnic went great! The kids were excited about the surprise and giddy over the novelty of eating on the floor. After lunch, the plan was to make s'mores for dessert. Only, since I had made a Duraflame fire, we didn't want to toast marshmallows over those flames. Who knows what kinds of chemicals could burn into them, and then be ingested by us? Vika and Eamon suspected that we would not be eating s'mores and began protesting loudly. I was a little disappointed too - I wanted me some s'mores!

Never fear, Jeff had a plan. He began dousing the Duraflame log with ashes. Over and over he tried to smother that log, but the dang thing kept combusting! Finally, he was able to put the fire out, leaving a smoking, black and gray heap in the fireplace. At this point, we were still under the impression that we could save the log for future use, so I ran to the kitchen for a cookie sheet and some potholders to transport the log from the fireplace to the back porch. We ordered the kids to sit on the couch, safely away from any potential fire dangers and got to work.

Ever so gingerly, Jeff nudged the Duraflame onto the cookie sheet, managing to keep the log mostly intact. However, a bigger problem soon arose. Maybe it was the jostling movement of the log, or perhaps it was the increased ventilation in the fireplace, but suddenly, smoke began billowing from every crack and pore in the Duraflame's waxy, sawdust surface. A massive gray cloud surged into the living room as Jeff quickly moved the log to the backyard. The fresh air only made the situation worse, and soon, our entire backyard was filled with a thick, bluish-gray haze. In the middle of the haze was Jeff, holding a hose on “mist” setting and trying to douse the log. Meanwhile, I stood inside, watching the scene through the sliding glass door and wondering how long it would be before some good Samaritan called the fire department to report us. Clearly, the “mist” setting was not working, and alternate measures were needed. Dragging on my boots, I yelled to Jeff to put the hose on “shower,” and ran outside with the intent of finding some sand to smother the log. I rushed to the garden and threw open the shed. No sand! So I started digging up garden soil to smother the log (plan B). Fortunately by then, Jeff had completely drowned the log, and it was no longer smoking.

We stood there silently, staring at the wet charred remains for a while before heading back into the house.

When we got inside, we were greeted by two excited kids saying, "Can we do that again? That was fun!"