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Those of you who know me know I'm more steamroller than ballerina when it comes to movement. Or, as my loving Grandmama put it, "What did you learn in charm school, Grace?" LOL!
My darling daughter bought me a great digital slow-cooker for my recent birthday (it was on my Wish List). It works great, and has these silicone feet that prevent it from sliding around easily. My only problem is the thing's dang heavy, and I'm short... I kept my old one on top of the fridge, out of the way. I can't do that with this behemoth! So it's been sitting on my flat-top stove for a week until I make a home for it.
I was cleaning the stove a few days ago, around all the dials, and the backsplash-thingy... you already see where this is going, don't you? I accidentally must have turned one of the burners on and not noticed when a ringing phone interrupted me. So, I'm chatting away with my sister in NC and notice a weird smell, like when our electric baseboard heat first kicks on and the dust incinerates.
'Twasn't dust. I hobbled into the kitchen, double-time, and knew exactly what happened when I got closer to the stench. I moved my slow-cooker quickly away and stared at the primordial black puddle covering half my burner. I grabbed up a pancake flipper and scraped the silicone/rubber off the stove and into the trash can. Almost every bit of it came up... but now the Crock-Pot had a shallow hole where one leg used to be.
Of course I asked my long-suffering hubby if he had any silicone caulk, so we could fashion a leg for it, because I needed it to make chili the next day.
He didn't. He did, however, have ingenuity! He took a lump of coal we'd gotten from one of Brunswick's New Year's Eve First Footings and snuggled it right into the legless hole. And duct-taped it into place.
It's working just fine, it's even level!
And the chili was great!
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The next day I made meatloaf. I decided to bake potatoes the old-fashioned way, not in the microwave. I scrubbed them and popped them in the oven, directly on the racks. Notice what I missed? Um-hmm... the official fork-poking. I thought about it, and decided they'd be fine. People cooked them that way alllll the time.
Um. Well. They shouldn't! About an hour later I walked into the kitchen to check the meatloaf, and heard a "thhwummmp." I had to laugh! I always kind of thought poking the potato was a waste of time. In fact, it's a very big time saver, since you don't have to spend all that time getting the mess off your oven's floor... and walls... and ceiling.
Not being one to do many things the "traditional" way, I decided to try something much easier than stooping down to oven level, holding the electrical element as high as possible while I – clumsy with only one hand – swept the now desiccated potato bits out.
And that's why my sister's spent the last two days laughing. Because when she called me that afternoon and asked me what I was doing I said "vacuuming my oven!"
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They say things come in threes... frankly, I'm getting a little bit nervous about Easter dinner!
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