Ooops...it's almost 5pm and I haven't put up a post yet. I blame the stove.
On December 23, as I was getting ready to bake scones in preparation for Christmas breakfast, my oven shorted out. There was a flash and a pfft, and all the lights went out. Mind you, I had four soldiers coming on Christmas Day expecting food and fun to brighten what would otherwise be a dreary day spent in barracks.
I had everything planned out according to prep time, what would keep and wouldn't, and what could be made ahead. The scones were Tuesday, cut-out cookies were supposed to be Wednesday, with a full turkey dinner on Thursday. All my planning went up with a flash and a pfft. I called our rental company and, of course, no one could come before Christmas.
Luckily, a dear friend hadn't signed up to host any soldiers herself because their plans for Christmas were squishy. She invited us to have the whole shebang over at her house (which was far more beautifully decorated than mine). I brought the food, she heated the oven, and it all came off without a hitch.
But I still didn't have a working stove.
It's amazing how much that one appliance does. A truth brought home in excruciating detail every morning, noon, and night.
The stove repairman came today. It took him ten minutes to fix. Apparently the last person to service the stove didn't tighten the connecting wires. He said we were lucky we never got a new hairstyle. I've been so pleased to have it working again, I totally forgot about posting. But I'd better go make some dinner now.
Until next time,