In my continuing tales of woe about my oven…. Okay, okay, this is actually a cheerful tale! Starting with driving through the woods and over the hill on a gorgeous afternoon with green bursting out around me. I love the green. Weston requested cheesecake in lieu of a regular cake for his birthday (he’s 17, how did that happen?), so I packed up my farm-fresh farm eggs and dairy and headed for the old farmhouse with my cheesecake fixins’ to use the old farmhouse oven. IT HAS KNOBS. Which is why it’s eons old yet STILL WORKS.
The old farmhouse waits for me, always there. She stands stalwart and dependable, just like her oven.
There was a spinning wheel on the table in the kitchen, though, so I don’t think she was quite ready for cooking business.
I had this kitchen all organized and decorated cute when I lived there. I miss this old kitchen. It was fun to cook in there again, even if there was a spinning wheel on the table and the water was turned off. I got the cheesecake in the oven and enjoyed turning THE DIALS and seeing the oven WORK. Like MAGIC.
“The person I spoke with was Joe Sparks (866 640-7146 ex. 7864). He is a senior safety recall representative and might be a good starting point for you.”
52 called this number and spoke to Joe Sparks. He asked 52 how he got his name and number, and 52 replied that he’d found it in a comment on the internet. Mr. Sparks asked for a little more information, and 52 said, “Well, Suzanne has a blog….” Mr. Sparks said: “Oh, no.” Anyway, I don’t think that is actually related, but Maytag is repairing my oven (replacing the panel) FOR FREE!!! Everybody tell Mr. Sparks how wonderful he is so he won’t be afraid of the internet. (And thank you to Diane!)
After I got the cheesecake in the OVEN WITH KNOBS, I wandered out to the cellar porch and peeked in the old cellar to visit my jars. I love these old blue half-gallon jars. Okay, they’re NOT my jars. But they like me. I think they want to live with me.
Maybe they would like to hop in my pocket? SUZANNE!! STOP IT.
You know how fast Georgia would have leaped out right of that chair and tackled me to the ground if I’d tried to take one of those jars?
I’m totally scared of her or I’d have one of those blue jars in my house right now!
It was a lovely day to sit on the lawn to the side of the old farmhouse, in the shade with the breeze, taking a few moments of easy after weeks of non-stop work, chatting with Georgia and my cousin’s wife, Sheryl.
My cousin and 52 came by with a load of hay for our animals, plus some leftover red metal roofing my cousin is donating to the cause for Beulah Petunia’s new shelter up near the house.
PLUS! Squeal! Look what my cousin, who is so good to me, brought me from the antique shop!
This is a vintage Dazey butter churn.
He cleaned and oiled the top lid and crank for me, but if anyone knows the best way to clean the wooden paddles, please let me know.
One of my mother’s jobs on the farm when she grew up was to churn the butter in a Dazey churn. She churned the butter from the time she was old enough to do it till she grew up and left home.
Next, of course, my cousin (who was, perhaps, “buttering” me up with that churn) had to break out the puppies again and remind me that Morgan has already named the one she wants to take home.
She wants one of the brown ones.
I’m not sure which one. They kinda look alike.
It’s a boy.
She named it Lucky.
She might be wearing me down, but don’t tell her that.
And then I went home again. WITHOUT A PUPPY.