A couple of days ago I posted about a few things that had happened at our house over the last several months - a flood in the spring which floated our dock about 8 feet out into the lake, a seawall that had to be repaired last year, a pump that went out this week. All of those things were rather pricey but the intent of the post was mainly to poke fun at my husband (obviously I adore him and know he can take a joke!) and make light of everyday things that we fret over but that, in the big scheme of things, just aren't important.
Today I'm a little more serious than that. In April this year I had a little stroke. I've mentioned that before because it ultimately led to me blogging. Since that time I've been having headaches which are frequent but of short duration and actually pretty minor. I chalked it up to residual effects of the stroke. Several times in the last couple of weeks I've thought I detected the smell of gas when I was cooking, and a time or two my husband agreed and said we should call the gas company to check. I procrastinated. Today my friend Sandy and I were sitting on the deck drinking coffee - well she was drinking coffee but I wasn't because I hate the stuff - when I decided to pop some muffins in the oven. I turned the oven on and put in the muffins before it even got hot and went back out onto the deck to chat. About 10 minutes later we came in to check on them and immediately Sandy said "I smell gas." Because she insisted I called the "hot line" and they were at my house in 30 minutes. Pretty quickly the gentleman said, "there's no gas leak but this meter is telling me to check for carbon monoxide." And when he did the numbers immediately started skyrocketing up! (Disclaimer: this is not my stove! the picture is compliments of Flickr)
Apparently the seal on the oven was cracked and it was leaking carbon monoxide. Did you know that could happen with a gas stove? I didn't. And not only that but whatever was cooked in the oven could be contaminated. Needless to say, he declined my offer of a muffin. :) And here's the scary part - we have a carbon monoxide detector right through the kitchen door in the dining room. It's not on a battery, it's plugged into a wall outlet so why didn't it go off? It is even down low, close to the floor where it's supposed to be. But it did not go off. It's not old, probably a year, but it did not go off.
My husband hasn't been getting headaches, which is the first sign of carbon monoxide poisoning, but he doesn't bake. I've had my head down in that oven several times this week - cornbread, oven-baked chicken, toast, muffins. Scary stuff.
Needless to say we bought a new stove today. Another $1000. And here I am posting about it. Not to moan and groan at yet another expense. Not to poke fun at my conservative husband who hates expenses like that. I'm posting for two reasons. If you have a gas stove get it checked. Make sure you have a carbon monoxide detector near it and not in the next room. And to say that I am so thankful that I was protected by my Father, who watches over me and loves me and who sent my dear friend Sandy to spend the night with me. She is a "worry wart" (her term, not mine), bossy (again, her term), and who insisted that I call right then. I would have put it off until next week.