Our house smells like roasted sugar. Well, burned sugar actually.  This smell is the result of a confluence of unplanned events.  First, Milla turned over a plastic bear bottle of honey in the cupboard above the stove in an effort to extract every last molecule of the stuff from the bottle.  Second, I forgot to turn off the burner on the stove this morning after making eggs.  Third, after heating the stove and the air above it all day long, the honey in the bottle began to melt and drip down into the drip pan — hence the name, drip pan, although I doubt this is what the stove designers had in mind exactly.  Thus, the result was burning sugar.  There is now in the drip pan a pile of charred honey. It is the color of hematite.  It’s actually quite beautiful. We’re lucky we didn’t burn down the house.

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