Right after the first of the year we trotted off and bought one of those new super-duper smoke alarms. I will say it is not nearly as touchy as the old one, which would go into a purple swivit over boiling water.
This morning I slid a croissant into the toaster oven while I laid the dining room table for breakfast. By the time I got back the kitchen was full of smoke, the croissant was charcoal, and the smoke alarm was going full-tilt. The little lady who lives inside was yelling “Fire! Fire!” at the top of her lungs, Blazer was running in circles, and the cat took off for high ground. It took ten minutes with the window open and the fan going to clear the house.
I picked up the croissant with tongs and carried it ceremoniously to the trash can. It was too far gone to even make decent compost.
thisendoftheswamp 