In case of emergency...

In case of emergency, dial 911 right? Of course, if the house is on fire or someone is bleeding profusely, we keep the phone handy. In our home, the code is, in case of emergency, throw a pizza in the oven. A few days ago, Roger came home and said "let's keep it simple tonight, just throw a pizza in the oven". If you look in our refrigerator, you will always find at least two small gourmet pizzas on the shelf. If I'm not home to prepare dinner, he's got it covered. Roasted mushroom, goat cheese, or Quattro fromaggio are his favorites. Now, me being from the East coast, nothing compares to a New York slice. If you have ever eaten pizza in NY or NJ, you will never be truly satisfied with anything else. It must be something in the water that makes that crust so special. Never eaten with a knife and fork, you crack the outer rim of crust, fold on half, and burn your mouth on the first perfect bite dripping with cheese. As you pull the slice away, the cheese stretches like taffy. Using your fingers to break it is acceptable table etiquette. I salivate with the memory. Back to story, I popped the requested pizza into the oven, set the timer on my microwave ( note to self, buy new timer) for thirteen minutes. I sit down at the kitchen table and stick my nose in a book for a few minutes diversion.
Suddenly, I smell pizza. I jump up and check, the pie is very golden on top, not a desired color. I check the timer and it had already rang, unheard, because I had my nose in a book. Interesting medical phenomena, when reading, I suddenly become hard of hearing. My children knew, when growing up, that speaking to me if I was reading was futile until I heard " and there is a snake under your chair. ". That always got my attention. I hate snakes. So, I serve the golden pizza with some salad to Roger who is in the recliner watching the news and go back to my book. A few minutes later, he comes into the kitchen, the pizza slides into the trash without complaint. We both laugh, because a week earlier he watched me cook dinner for eighty in our small kitchen with military timing and here I botch up a ready made pizza. Blame the book.
Moral of the story, books and bites don't mix! With open flames, or sharp knives, give the task at hand full attention. There is always time to read fifteen minutes later!

For the record, we do have real emergency supplies on hand. A fire extinguisher, bottled water, and a large earthquake preparedness kit. Roger and I have each lived through damaging hurricanes, tornadoes and earthquakes. In 1989, the Marina district in San Francisco was hit with the Loma Prieta earthquake. At home at the time, Roger grabbed his young daughter and escaped down a flight of swaying stairs. A few minutes later, his neighborhood was destroyed and his home was in flames. Everything they owned was gone. They were lucky. Some of the neighbors lost their lives. He and his family were uninjured. It is not what you have that is important, but WHO you have that is.

Even though I live on the West Coast now, I always follow news from home. Heartbroken over the devastation of Super storm Sandy, I keep in touch with friends and family in NJ. Via Facebook, I have had the joy of reconnecting with classmates and cousins not seen in years. 2013 is a milestone marking our 40th high school reunion. Hopefully, we will gather to share and celebrate lessons learned, lives well lived and a remembrance of some classmates who left life too early. And, if I'm lucky, pizza will be on the menu!