The Definition of Idiot Part II

Sadly, this time is doesn't involve a semi-naked beautiful woman, but nevertheless it still helps to define me as a fully fledged idiot.

I'm not a bad cook. I never claim to be the next Gary Rhodes or Anthony Whorrel-Thompson but I can make a decent Sunday dinner, follow a receipe successfully and don't mind experimenting with herbs and spices. (Actually, at the moment I have hair like Gary and a waist-line like Anthony but it still doesn't make me cordon-bleu!) My cooking on Sunday night/Monday morning this week however makes me look like an idiot.

I'll stress now, it's actually nothing to do with the food itself. The meal came out beautifully and tasted devine (even if I do say so myself) It's the process of how the meal came together that I am about to tell you all.

Picture the scene. It's Sunday night. I've just returned from work and I decide to make a casserole in my slow cooker. The plan is to leave it cooking over night, turn the oven off in the morning and then I can warm it up when I come back from work on Monday evening. Simple. It was the most straightforward of meals - roughly chop some potatoes, carrots, leeks, red onions, peppers and mix in the pot. Put the pot in the slow cooker, add a thick vegetable stock and some diced pork. put on the lid, set to 'low' and leave for 8 hours. The whole process took less than 10 minutes to do. With me so far?

I woke up several times during the night, (as usual) and on one occasion went to check the casserole was ok. There it was, simmering away to itself, looking extremely tasty already. At 6am when my alarm went off, I went back to the kitchen to turn off the slow cooker. But what was this? The red light was already off....

...Now any sensible person would have assumed the cooker had broken, or the fuse in the plug or socket had blown. What did I assume? "Oh wow, my slow cooker has an automatic shut-off system. Isn't that clever" The fact that the instruction manual for the cooker was less than 6 inches from my left hand didn't matter, as far as I was concerned, the cooker turned itself off.

Despite my idiotic assumption, I did switch the cooker off at the plug and left the casserole whilst I went to work. 13 hours later I returned, and it was still there. (Well obviously. Where is a large casserole going to go on it's own?)

I plugged the cooker back in, and turned the dial to 'warm'. Nothing. No red light, no gentle humming noise, zilch.

Ok, NOW I assume a fuse has gone in the plug or socket. (it's only taken me half a day to realise that) Firstly I tried plugging the cooker into the socket next to the first one. Still no red light. (The 'idiot' is beginning to surface. If the fuse has gone in either the socket or plug, it's not going to work if I put it in the socket right next to the first one is it?!). I also did that strange action of flicking the socket switches on and off. Why do people do that? When a light bulb blows, why do we always flick the light on and off as though it's going to magically come back to life?

...and here's where 'idiot' reaches a whole new level. The sensible thing to do would be to go and check the fuse box for a tripped switch. What do I do? I carry the slow cooker, including the casserole, into my bedroom. I balance it on the end of my bed and reach across to the socket I plug my bedside lamp into!! Not only had I passed three seperate sockets in the lounge to get to that one, but I didn't take the casserole pot out of the cooker first!!

Anyway, the red light came on, so I knew the fuse in the plug must be ok. So, it must be the socket fuse that had blown. Carrying the casserole back to the kitchen I passed the airing cupboard with the fusebox. Now balancing the cooker and casserole on one arm I can see a switch HAS tripped. Flipping it back up, the socket now works and I can now warm my casserole - a casserole which has now done a full tour of the flat and on two occasions been in danger of being dropped!

Half an hour later I was tucking into a lovely casserole, first healthy meal I've had in a while.

....but there's still more.

Although I've 'fixed' the socket in the kitchen, it completely escapes my attention that one of the switches I had been flicking on and off before was a seperate fuse switch. There were two of them actually, right next to the sockets themselves. One of them I had left in the 'on' position, hence being able to warm my dinner. The other fuse switch I had left in the 'off' position. No real problem I suppose, I'm not using anything in the kitchen right now......

.....bearing in mind the socket has been out of action for a full 13 hours, it's only when I went to get a can of Sprite from the fridge and found it to be a bit warm did it dawn on me what I had done. That 7ft tall silver fridge freezer that lurks behind the door also shares the same bank of sockets. It must have been off all day AND it was still off because I hadn't turned the fuse switch back on. Thankfully the freezer section was still frozen (I know because the ice-cube tray wasn't swimming in water) but I had had a lucky escape. If I hadn't gone for that can of Sprite the freezer would have been fully defrosted and taken a multitude of pizzas, sausages and giant Yorkshire Puddings with it!

So there you go. For leaving a socket out of action for more than 13 hours (which had a fridge freezer plugged into it), for testing a plug by carrying a full casserole around the flat with me and for flicking a fuse switch on and off (and forgetting to put back 'on') I am once again a card-carrying, certifiable, dictionary defining idiot.

...shame about the lack of semi-naked women though :o)