Devonian Trilobite

David and Maren made it into town last night. Their flight was on time. In fact the only delay came with our pickup. The line of cars trying to get into arrivals was so long that we ended up diverting to departures, where there was no line. Maren and Dave had to schlep their bags upstairs, but other than that everything else went fine and we were on our way in no time. Since then it has been nonstop cooking. Our new stove is getting its baptism by fire, as they say. Speaking of fire, the crème brûlée was a big hit, but not near as much as the little blowtorch that I have that turns sugar into brûlée. Six of us were standing around in the kitchen last night, taking turns at browning the contents of our ramekins. I think that some people enjoyed doing that a little too much. At least we didn’t burn the house down. I’m thinking of bringing the blowtorch with us this summer, when we go camping. Most of the parks don’t allow open fires, because of the constant fire danger. We have a stove that cooks fine, but last year I saw another camper cooking hotdogs with his portable flamethrower. I was green with envy. I guess a blowtorch or even a flamethrower is not considered open fire. Now if I can only talk Anne into letting me do something like that too? Maybe asking for forgiveness would be easier than permission.