How I Almost Set Fire to a LOT of Money

Fireplaces. Aren't they romantic?

Well, today I almost had an accident with Will's fireplace... you see, he's closing on the apartment tomorrow. That means he hands this guy his keys and the guy hands him a big fat check. Today, in a huge effort to help out, I went down to clean up the last remaining bits. I swept and whtanot, and whatever paper I came across, I just threw in the fireplace.

It's like growing up in New England-- you rake the leaves into a pile, jump in said pile a few times, and then burn it. Ease of disposal.

I thought I'd do that with the last few papers. Only snag was that the flue, unbeknownst to me, was closed.

Next thing I knew, the apartment was flooded with smoke. Thank goodness for high ceilings! I tried to continue cleaning and pretending that nothing was wrong, but the smoke started to billow and a neighbor rang the bell, asking if I smelled smoke.

"Uh, yeah. I just had a little problem with the fireplace. All under control now."

"It happens to all of us," she said. "It actually smells like my Thanksgiving Dinner." (thankfully, Will has moved out before befriending her to the extent that we'd have to spend holidays at her place!)

Thanks to the cylindricality of an old ice cream container that happened to be lying around and the fact that Will has yet to turn off the water in the place, I was able to put the bitch out without a visit from our friendly firefighters.

Not exactly romance...