Oven Update

You may recall that my oven had a breakdown last week. Well, the part arrived in no time, and Aaron and I installed it yesterday.

Although most of the breakers in our box of electrical magic and wonder are not labeled, it just so happens that the one for the range happens to be one of two that are. So, Aaron took charge, flipped said breaker, grabbed a couple of Phillips-head screwdrivers, and went to town on the oven. It took maybe five minutes, if that, to unscrew the mounting plate, pull out and unclip the old, broken element, clip in the new one, and screw it back in.

Nothing burned down, although the factory dust did burn off of the element for a minute or so, and I baked some VERY tasty No-Pudge Fudge Brownies later that day.

No worries. Our oven should be good to go for many more years to come.

Crisis Averted

I bought some No-Pudge Fudge Brownies at Claudia’s a couple weeks ago, and decided to make them for our trip to Canada this weekend. All they needed was a container of vanilla yogurt, mix ’em up, and throw ’em in the oven for a half hour. That I can do, no problem. Preheated the oven, stirred the powdered mix together with 6 ounces of vanilla yogurt, put it into a lubed-up pan, and opened the oven—

Why is only one little bit of the heating element glowing red? How odd.

I turned the oven off — I’m kind of skitchy with appliances that don’t do exactly what’s expected of them, especially when it involves electricity and lots of heat — and waited for the oven to cool again. I figured that maybe something funky had been spilled onto the heating element, and I could just clean it off and be on my brownie way.

So, once the oven was cool enough, I got a sponge (for lack of anything more abrasive) and got to work on cleaning the heating element. Carefully.

But apparently not carefully enough. Where the element looked like something had spilled on it and simply needed cleaned off, the element easily snapped in two like chalk.

Um… I think I broke it? Maybe it was already almost broken. At any rate, now we need a $35 – $40 part for our oven before I can a.) make brownies, which are now sitting raw in the refrigerator; or b.) test out any luau recipes. Oh, or c.) make any more tropical-scented candles.

So, why do I say “crisis averted,” when my oven doesn’t work now? If I hadn’t noticed the weirdness with the heating element, I could have set the oven on fire with my brownie-baking. As it is, we’ll just have to buy a part and either try installing it ourselves or pay someone to do it for us. We won’t have to buy a whole new oven, or a whole new kitchen.

Crisis averted.

No Soliciting

Aaron was assembling his lunch this afternoon/evening (since he works nights) when we heard two quick rings of the doorbell and two quick knocks on the front door. That’s usually the UPS man’s MO, so Aaron went over to the door and peeked through the peephole.

“I don’t know who that is,” he said, turning back toward the kitchen, “so I’m not answering it. Some lady with a clipboard.”

Not ten seconds later, the person rang and knocked again, and I saw Aaron’s eyes flare before he turned to stride back toward the door. I stayed in the kitchen, unseen, while I listened to the exchange:

Aaron: Can I help you?
Woman: Good afternoon! How are you today?
Aaron: Can you read?
(I assumed he was pointing at our prominently displayed “No Soliciting” sign.)
Woman: Yes.
Aaron: Thank you.
Woman (just before door closes): Piece of shit.
Aaron (yanking the door back open): Fuck you, too!

According to Aaron, the woman flipped him off from the driveway as she walked off, and her clipboard read American something-or-other. I’m guessing she was a political pollster of some kind, and I’m hoping she wasn’t working on behalf of a charitable organization, considering her reactions.

As for me, I prefer to go the more passive-aggressive route of not answering the door at all, even after the second knock, but it’s easier to go that route when the car isn’t in the driveway and I can feign not being home. Aaron’s OK with being a little more confrontational than I am, generally speaking.

Still, though, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect to be left alone by pollsters and solicitors and proselytors when you post a No Soliciting sign right next to your doorbell.

Gardening: Year Five

I’m not exactly Jerry Baker when it comes to gardening. I tend to be a passive gardener, rather than one who waters daily and feeds periodically. I’ve killed more plants than I’ve successfully tended over the past five years as a homeowner.

I’m finally starting to realize that bulbs and rhizomes are definite winners for me, as I can pretty much “set it and forget it.” Three years ago, I planted some miniature daffodils that Sheryl gave me for my birthday, and they’ve survived, albeit weakly. Two years ago, I planted some daylilies from my co-worker, Scott, and they’re easily the strongest and healthiest plants in my yard. Finally, last fall, I planted a lily and a few bulbs (daffodils and tulips, I think) by the mailbox, and they seem to be sprouting up just fine.

I’ve tried my hand at supposedly “invasive” plants, too, like catnip. It’s supposed to spread and self-sow like a mofo, but it hasn’t, really. The first year, I started the catnip indoors and then planted it outside, and I harvested a sandwich bag full of Kitty Herb, leaving several plants to go to seed. Last year was the second year of the catnip, and only a few plants came up, so I only harvested a few sprigs, leaving most to go to seed. So far this year, I see just two little catnip plants sprouting up, and I doubt the harvest will be very plentiful.

The newcomers to the yard this year will be the grape hyacinth I bought to add color to my desk at work. It may end up being friends with the miniature daffodils, or I may plant it under another tree in the front yard.

Oh, and I’m also planning a resurgence of annuals this year — specifically, impatiens, which seemed to thrive well enough in the dry shade under the overhang in front of our split-level house. (Nothing else ever did.) I may see how hostas fare there, too. But nothing will be planted until mid-May, after we return from our vacation. Never again am I leaving new baby plants to the mercy of the elements while I’m out of town. Not even for a long weekend.

I have a large container of lilies of the valley, also from Scott; I had planted them under said overhang when he first gave them to me, but they didn’t do well, so I rescued them and transplanted them. I’ve had them for a few years now, and I keep meaning to bring them inside during the winter… but I forget and leave them out all winter long. Last year, I still had a few left. We’ll see how many I have left this year. Maybe I’ll find an appropriate permanent home for them this year. I have a few ideas.

Someday I’ll have a decently landscaped and colorful yard. Until then, I’ll just see what works.

DIY Question

Remember when I was all excited to get my IKEA kitchen organizer hanging bar thingie? I actually purchased the Gründtal bar and spice rack and shelf and S-hooks back in early December 2007… but I haven’t installed them yet.

Why not? Let me explain.

I located the studs in the wall before I even bought the rod, just to be sure it would fit properly. No problems with the fit — however, the stud finder we bought told us that there is hot AC by one of the studs I’d planned to drill into.

Now, I’m not in a big hurry to either a.) electrocute myself, b.) screw up the wiring in my kitchen by drilling through it, or c.) all of the above. Do you guys think I’m OK to go ahead and drill through the stud and install the mounting screws and the bar, or should I not mess with it at all?

I can’t find any specific info about this online, so I’m asking my faithful readership. What do you think?