Nom de Plume

We’re going to Rockford for Christmas, but my mother said that if she doesn’t have anything going on–i.e., friends descending on her–she’ll hop a plane and then come up here. But then she asked (with more than just a note of suspicion in her voice) whether we have an oven yet.

And of course, the answer is no.

The good news is that the Kamado is pretty amazing. I’ve even been baking bread in it, believe it or not. But the bad news is that we’ve been ovenless since February.

Yes, February. That’s when Steve and Dave killed something in the oven when they dragged it outside.

Steve has a contact over at one of the appliance stores in town who might get him a special deal. He came home the other day saying that we were getting one of those flat topped electric jobbers. I really don’t want one; I’ve read nothing but bad things about them. What I really want is gas–not that I’m a good enough cook to really be able to tell the difference, but it seems to me that if we’re going to spend the money, we might as well get something we really like.

The problem is that getting gas requires plumbing the gas line from the furnace. I begged and pleaded, and finally Steve said, “Fine. You deal with getting it installed.”

Fair enough. I have three people coming week after next to give us an estimate. So we could conceivably have a new stove within a few short weeks.

Now I just have to return the IKEA kitchen cabinet doors we broke down and bought–and then decided we didn’t like.

One final note before I get back to work: You know you’re getting old and matronly when your boyfriend gives you a KitchenAid mixer for your birthday–and you’re thrilled about it.