Monday, August 11, 2008

On the bright side, our house didn't blow up.

Clint stayed home on Thursday for the A/C guy (4th time out to our house, only charged us for one visit.)

When I got home, I stepped into the garage to drop off a bag of coke cans from my office. I smelled what I thought was paint thinner. So I asked him if he painted something in the garage. Nope. He had smelled it, but said he didn't know what it was.

We were grilling ribs from Michoacana for dinner, so Clint loaded up the BBQ pit with charcoal. Only to discover that I had bought regular charcoal instead of matchlight. And we had no lighter fluid. We tried all kinds of stuff to get the fire going. Nothing doing.

I went to pick up Landon, and borrow some lighter fluid. By the time I got back the fire was going fine. We ate. We swam.

We went to bed. And I smelled the same smell in the house.

It was almost midnight, when Clint said "Do you want me to investigate?"

Well, duh!

Apparently his project truck had been leaking gasoline. It was coming out of a hose dripping on the floor of the garage, streaming down towards the garage door and pooling in the low spot where the garage door meets the concrete across the entire width of the garage door. Less than 10 feet from where we used the blow torch to try and light our BBQ pit.

4 comments:

Sunshine said...

How scary! Thank goodness you discovered it without incident.

Thanks so much for stopping by my blog and commenting!!

Someone Being Me said...

That is really scary. Good thing you investigated before you went to bed.

The Modernish Father said...

Gas leak or no, props for using a blow torch to light your grill. That's hard core.

nonsoccermom said...

Yikes! That is the kind of stuff that freaks me out. Glad nothing happened!