SMOKE ALARM

I opened the oven door and was immediately engulfed in a cloud of thick, black smoke. It billowed out from the sizzling cavern and puffed into the kitchen. I turned it off and hooked the pizza out with an oven glove. It was fine, but the oven was not. Soon the smoke started to sting my eyes and I could taste it as it choked me. I coughed and spluttered like an old man, holding a pizza.

Then, through the blue haze that was funnelling its way out into the hall, the smoke alarm went off. It's good to know that it works in a crisis. It wailed like a banshee. I sprang into action, grabbed a chair and leapt up to push the button that switches it off. Then I clambered down, coughed my way through the clouds of pungent smoke and opened every single window I could find.

That done, I shut the kitchen door and sat at the top of the stairs, regaining my breath and wiping my eyes. There is definitely something wrong with my oven. I think maybe it needs a proper clean out.

When I got back tonight, the whole place smelled of smoke. In fact, even my clothes smelled like I'd had an evening poking a bonfire. The stinging, sickly aroma had permeated everything. I hope it doesn't last. I also hope there isn't any residual carbon monoxide lingering either, otherwise... well, don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Anyway, I'm pretty sure carbon monoxide doesn't work like that. The window is open.

So, in other news, my friend Karen texted a quote (almost certainly not just to me) which was completely apposite for what I was thinking about yesterday. She said, 'Slowing down can speed up our recovery and creativity.'

How true is that! It's counterintuitive because we speed up to get things done, but actually, that pace of chilled-out inspiration is where things flow. That's my goal then, to slow down so much that I can't help creativity exploding throughout every aspect of my life. I can't be living off quick and easy pizzas, getting home and bunging them in, just in time to do everything before I rush off to the next thing with a mouthful.

After all, even my oven seems to be vehemently protesting.