Gone

Twenty years ago, Paul and I chose a brand new electric range in almond to join us in our first home.  Self-cleaning and beautiful!

We found early on that although beautiful (and self-cleaning), she was not perfect.  But then, what is?  Her timer didn't work right and her little preheat light didn't light.  But what's that among friends?  In her defense, she has made dozens and dozens...and dozens of cookies and brownies.  She has made casseroles for us, for church gatherings, and for new moms.  She has baked birthday cakes and many pounds of macaroni and cheese.  She has even crafted a bit in her day by baking homemade sun catchers and crayons.  She has been one of the central figures in our home.  Dare I say that she has made our house a home?  Too dramatic?  OK, but can I say first that she makes Monkey Bread and Banana Bread?  Now might you agree?

Last night was a sad night in our family.  Our almond electric range (shame on me for never giving her a name!) died.  And not just a silent, "I'm done" kind of death.  She went out with a bang.  Seriously.

I had just cleaned and coated two pans of chicken tenderloins and put them in the oven to bake.  I thought that I smelled something sort of burning, but decided that it must be an outside burn pile smoldering.  I sat down to start making my shopping list for this weekend's homeschool convention when suddenly, "BANG!  BANG!"  Smoke began pouring out of the back burner.  I yelled for help and then shut her down.  For the last time.  Then a horrible smell started filling the house...along with the smoke.  Paul and William came to check on her, but it was too late.  

Here's Paul feeling for a pulse.

Nothing.

And here's her final meal.

Funny that her final meal should be chicken.

It's our favorite.

(Paul tells me that purple writing means sarcasm.)

So, now we're making plans to give her a proper goodbye and then begin looking for her replacement.  It all seems so fast.  I told Paul that we didn't have to replace her.  Take-out is good.  And we could put a chair there instead of an electric range.  And then, if we're getting take-out, we could just use paper plates, and I wouldn't need the dishwasher.  I could replace it with a bookshelf.

I'm just kidding.
I would miss Saturday morning pancakes and Carrie's snickerdoodles.  Paul would miss his daily fried eggs.  The boys would miss their stove-top mac and cheese and Carrie her quinoa.  We would all miss the seasonal scents that drift from the kitchen.

And there would be no more of this...

I think we'll go shopping tonight.