Sunday, after much debate and procrastination, I finally took our propane tank off the grill and in for a fill up. When I got home, I hooked it back up to cook some hot dogs. Hebrew National 97% Fat Free.
Well, the propane tank started shooting flames, out of the side not connected to the grill and I couldn't turn it off, and I couldn't put out the flames. So, even though I like to be self-sufficient, open my own jars, kill my own spiders, I decided to call for help. Since Matt was doing a volunteer day at the bike trail, I pulled my cellphone and called, you guessed it, 911.
The operator was very nice, very calm. Within 3 minutes a truck with 3 firefighters arrived. I took them to the back yard and they decided to fight it from the alley. They suggested I stay in the front.
Now, I've watched plenty of episodes of King of the Hill, watched Matt play lots of video games, and so I understand the properties and behaviors of propane, and I sure as hell didn't want to be around when/if the damn thing exploded.
Meanwhile, truck number two shows up, asks if truck number one has everything under control. I tell them I don't know as I was advised to wait out front. They go back, determine that the propane is extinguished and let me know. Truck number two leaves, and I go to the back yard with Lola to hang with the guys from truck number one. They tell me they've never seen a tank do that before, that I shouldn't feel bad for calling them, etc. Meanwhile, Matt calls to let me know he's on his way home.
I chew the fat with the firefighters, who are very nice, extremely funny and the kind of guys who you'd want to sit with at a bar. They eventually determine that the canister is going to continue to leak for a few hours, and advise me not to spend a lot of time out there for the rest of the day and to definitely not smoke or light a match out there for a bit.
They roll up their hoses and get out of dodge.
All in all, an awesome day.
Mad props to the Nashville FD, and to me, for remaining calm.
In other, less exciting news, or actually, more exciting in some ways - the Chickadees in our birdhouse moved out a few weeks back, and now we have new birds. A House Wren has moved in. Woot!
This weekend I'm going to my girlfriend Connie's baby shower. I can't wait. I did have a hard time finding suitable gifts. Why do baby clothes manufacturers assume I want all little boys' pajamas to have puppies, trucks or dinosaurs? Now, I would buy pjs with a dog driving a truck which has just run over a dino. But do you know how hard that is to find? Exactly.
OK. Well, that's all I can say. Mostly because I'm tired.
PS - No, I didn't get pix of the fire shooting out of my prop tank. I was a little distracted.