This morning when we got up, the house smelled of smoke. Not a mild whiff, a full-fledged nose-clogging stink. Nothing for it but to turn off the heat, open all the windows, turn on the ceiling fans and air the place out.
I dressed for the occasion, faux fur coat over my flannel jammies, tiara for accent.
Denny made coffee, I made pumpkin pancakes topped with sauteed ginger-lime-honey spiked apples.
I know you wish your house had been smoked.