Placing two pounds of frozen hamburger in a soup kettle, I added half a cup of water and placed it on a burner set at low. While waiting for it to thaw, I turned to unloading the dishwasher and gathering ingredients for the lasagna and layered tostada that I planned. Every five or ten minutes I’d stop, turn back to the stove and scrape a cooked layer of meat off the solid pink mass.
Stretching on tip-toes to reach for a bowl on a high shelf, I suddenly realized that something was missing from the kitchen. Settling back on my heels, I scanned the kitchen window above the sink, then examined the ceiling and light fixture. Craning my head this way and that, I inspected the countertops. Continue reading