Attack!

Our stove may be trying to kill us. I’m not exactly sure what we ever did to it to deserve such treatment except give it a good home and purposeful existence (isn’t that all any of us ever really need in life?) but as thanks for our efforts our lovely little second hand stove that cost us way too much money delivers electric shocks so strong that my fingers retain the memory of my cooking adventure throughout the meal. And yet I seem to keep going back for more. I’d like to think that the first time I forgot about this situation and experienced my first shock, I killed so many brain cells in the process that it is not actually my fault that when cooking I still insist on touching metal lids or using metal utensils, but seeing has I have lived in a safe cooking environment for the entirety of my 26 years until recently force of habit is so strong. And I must be a slow learner.

Shoes seem to help. Jules has offered to test all of my shoes to see which ones offer protection. Nice guy eh? I declined, because I spend so much time in bare feet that he would go through the torture and I will still get shocked. There are men all over the place here who sell strips of old tires. We never could figure out what they are for, but last night we drew up a very nice design for a rubber tire kitchen floor mat. That might be the answer to our troubles.

ps. Have booked off Mon/Tues of next week and then will be travelling with work for wed/thurs/fri so it might be some time before I post again.