Black Friday

Just a few weekends ago I woke to an ice fishing hut engulfing my living room. It was a sight to be seen. That weekend I was out on the ice for my first time and (up until I got violently sick) having a blast.img_7515
Every spare moment since we got our new hut Brian could be found on various lakes within a 100 mile radius of our home. He has provided dinner on many nights and has quickly filled the spots in the freezer we have created from consuming some of our stock of salmon & halibut caught over the summer.

Kratos is also reaping the benefits of his various outings and has taken to ice fishing quickly. He has learned that occasionally a fish that makes its’ way out of the frigid waters lands at his feet and disappears behind a flash of teeth and beard.
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So for Black Friday we decided to #OptOutside and spend the day at a secluded lake near Anchorage topping off the freezer.
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Roast Kitteh

What a night. I can look back on it now with a little bit of a chuckle, but a few hours ago there were tears in me eyes. I was frantically talking to Brian, who hadn’t yet made it home from work, trying to tell him the story of what just transpired in our kitchen. I needed him to stop at the store on his way home for some burn cream. It needed to me pet safe of course as it was for Bucket and not myself.

After returning home from work for the day I fell into my normal after work routine. Although there was plenty I had left to complete for the night it’s rare that I’m home before Brian so I thought I’d get dinner started early and have it waiting for him when he walked in the door. I pulled out my recipe for the night as well as the ingredients from the fridge. After peeling, chopping, and mincing I put my pot on the stove and turned on the gas. Only the igniter didn’t catch right away and a small build-up of natural gas was happening. Bucket strolled into the kitchen to investigate what I was doing and decided to jump on the counter next to the stove at the exact moment the spark ignited the gas. The delay was only a few moments, but it was enough to create a short lived flame about the size of a basketball.

Bucket was in just as much shock as I was. She was whining –  I was crying as I examined her over and found not only her whiskers had curled from the burn be that her chest hair was singed as well.
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It was then that I called Brian crying that I had nearly killed the cat. By the time he got arrived home it was as though nothing had even happened.
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She of course was fine, but I am probably scarred for life.
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