Cujo is enjoying a day off. Wouldn't want to tax his brain with all his "writing". Nope, today is all about me and my woes.
As Cujo may have mentioned I have been feeling a bit less than. I seem to have no energy. I still get up every day and try to pretend I feel better. I shower and do my hair and make-up. Then I have to rest from all that effort. I do things in fits and spurts, rarely accomplishing much. Feels that way anyway.
So, today I awoke and decided I felt better. Not great, mind you, but better. Last night I mixed up batches of cookie dough that had to chill and I was all set to make cookies today. I cleaned my kitchen and got a load of wash going. I was going to make the peanut butter blossoms first, because that was the biggest batch. I had all my ingredients on hand, thanks to HeWho loves to run errands.
I was mixing the butter and peanut butter when HeWho arrived home after getting the insurance set up on the new RV and paying our property taxes. Since he was unlikely to leave again, I told him he could be in charge of pushing the Hershey kisses into the hot from the oven cookies. He was definitely up for the task, he loves peanut butter and he loves chocolate and I was okay with losing a few cookies along the way.
Leaving the mixer to the creaming of the ingredients I had dumped in, I turned the oven on to preheat and prepared the cookie sheets with parchment paper. I was adding the eggs, one at a time to the mixing bowl when a light flashed behind me! What was that? I looked at the wall switches to see if HeWho had decided I needed more light, then quickly changed his mind. He sometimes does stuff, you know, to keep me on my toes. But He was in his chair, removing the foil from the candies. My back was to the stove and when I turned around, I saw a flame in the oven.
I called out for the candy man and opened the door to see that one of the elements was red hot, while the rest were black. Yes, the oven died. No oven, no cookies. Of course there is an oven in the RV, but my cookies sheets are too big. I wanted to cry.
HeWho went immediately to the phone and began searching for a good buy on an electric stove. Since we don't plan to be here forever, I suggested he go to a scratch and dent place. He asked if I wanted to upgrade to the gas stove I was longing for. No! I don't want to spend money on that! I am cheap, get used to it!
The mixer was still going and the eggs were all incorporated. I added the flour and MY MIXER DIED. Are you kidding me? I said that to my mixer, which, by the way is only two years old. It spoke back with that smell that electric appliances have when they burn up. It may seem like it had been running for a long time, but it wasn't. About half the time it would have been running to make a pound cake. I finished mixing the dough by hand and it sits waiting in the kitchen.
Waiting for what? Waiting for the stove that HeWho has left to obtain. Guess I am getting a stove for Christmas. And a mixer. I have enough time to get a nap while he is gone.