Toaster VS Toaster Oven

I have used my trusted little toaster that I purchased at a liqudation store for many years. It won't toast bagels or thick sliced, huge sized bread. Basically, you can toast Wonder Bread, and nothing else.
I have a friend who has just moved to Arizona. She said that she had a few small appliances that she couldn't take with her and was wondering if I wanted something. I asked her if she had a toaster. Low and behold - the answer was yes. I showed up to her place and was dismayed to see that the toaster was actually a toaster oven. Oh man! A toaster oven! It has a built in toaster, in the toaster oven. My friend assured me that I would love it. Well, I brought it home and it took up quite a bit of space. It was pretty nifty for baking a chicken pot pie, or heating one slice of pizza and I admit I used it a couple of times for toast.
Gradually though, I noticed that I always turned to my toaster for my toast. The toaster oven was great for other food, but it just seemed wrong for toast. I felt no satisfaction when my toast didn't catapult out of the toaster like a canon. The little "ding" I heard seemed too new-fangled for my sentimentalities. The lines on my toast, from the toaster oven, felt like they should be on steak, not on toast.
Yes, these are minor complaints and there are far greater problems in the world, and even my life, than my toaster/toaster oven debate.
It appears, though, that there is room in my life, and my kitchen for both.

New Kitty

Here is my new kitty. His name is Sneakers and he super duper cute. He was adopted from a cat shelter called Katie's Place in Maple Ridge, BC. He seemed like a big slug who just layed around. That was alright with me. However, after a few days, he became very playful and inquisitive. He loves to chase after his toys as he pushes them down the stairs. He also waits around corners and when I walk by, he lunges at me with a mighty "meow" which startles me and then makes me laugh. He does this several times a day to me, however, he won't do this in front of anyone else. I have no proof.

Happy Halloween

I had about 25 kids come to the house for trick-or-treating. They were such cuties. My favourite little costumed kiddie was a little 3 or 4 year old boy who was wearing a body sized yellow tinsel covered egg. He was wearing the top of the egg as a hat. His little face was popping through the egg, like a little chick peeking out of an egg. I'm sure in a few years he will join the legions of spidermen and batmen, never to wear his egg again.

A few years ago, I worked at a bank and one of the customers was a man who had his own construction business. He had three sons, 7, 5 and 2 1/2 years old. He told me that his wife put him in charge of their Halloween costumes. On Halloween, he came into the bank to make a deposit and he had dressed all three of his boys as little girls. He too was dressed in women's clothing. All four of them were "in drag". They looked great. I asked him what his wife thought of the costumes. He said she wasn't very happy. The 7 year old didn't look very amused either.

Signed up for Sailing with Scissors

I am soooo excited. I have signed up for http://sailingwithscissors.com which is a cardmaking cruise hosted by Jessie Hurley of http://www.cherishthethought.ca It will be so much fun. Five instructors teaching 5 different card classes. It is an Alaskan Cruise and the price is right. Check out the sailing with scissors site, mentioned above for more info.

My parents still use a rotary phone

I decided to visit my parents yesterday. I entered their house through the basement and was in the process of taking off my shoes, when I heard a super-loud ringing noise. It sounded like an intermittent fire alarm.
What a minute...it sounded like the crazy-loud ring of a rotary phone. I followed the noise and sure enough, I found a rotary telephone on it's own little table hidden in a corner of the basement. Of course, I ran up the stairs and began harrassing my mother mercilessly about the phone. I asked her if she had churned her own butter that day and if she was going to go wash her clothes on the rocks at the nearest river. Fortunately, mom has the best sense of humour in the world and she just laughed. She said that they use the phone to answer calls when they are downstairs or outside in the garden. Yes, they can hear that horrible ring outside, with the doors and windows closed - yikes.
I ran back downstairs and decided to call one of my pals using a telephone I hadn't used in twenty years.
I called my friend Ana (correct spelling) on her cell phone. Firstly, it took several long painful minutes for the dial to return to it's original position in order to be able to dial the next number. Secondly, and more annoyingly, I had to listen to her whole voicemail message. I have known her for years, and have been able to press the "#" key in order to get to the beep and leave my message. In fact, I have never heard her whole voicemail message. It was lame. It just went on and on and on. My mind drifted off to a scene of a white sandy beach with palm trees and jewel blue water. Suddenly I was jolted back to reality when I heard the beep. I left my banal message informing Ana that I was calling her from a rotary telephone.
When she called me back later, she laughed because when I hung the receiver back onto it's base, she heard a loud clunk that she hadn't heard in years, since she had last used a rotary phone. It wasn't a delicate little "click" that occurs when you press the "off" key, or closed the flip of your cell phone. Next week, I'll have to dust off the 8-track tape deck I eyed in the back crevases of my parents' garage.

Alien Hat

It was time for my monthly visit to my hairdresser. Unfortunately, I began greying quite early in my life so I have had to have my roots dyed every month for many years. My hairdresser is wonderful. She knows exactly how to do the colour so I don't have weird stripes down my hair. Anyhow during one of my visits, my hairdresser had applied haircolour only to my roots and put my head under one of those big dome heaters. She says the heat sets the colour very well. The remainder of my hair is dry because the colour is combed through later on in the process. As I sit there with the heater over my head, with my hair protruding from my head because only the roots have the colour, a little boy, no older than three, stands in front of me and stares. I am reading my magazine trying to ignore the little guy. I'm in no mood to be social when I'm inhaling haircolour fumes, feeling a burning sensation on my scalp and unfortunate enough to pay quite a bit of money for this experience. The little boy's mother takes his hand and says it is time to go. He starts yelling "I WANT TO WEAR AN ALIEN HAT TOO!!!". This behaviour continues for several minutes, which feels like several hours. The other customers look at him, look at me and begin giggling. I pretend to ignore the whole chaotic situation. Finally, the mother drags the little boy out of the salon as he continues to scream about my alien hat. Guess what, sonny...you too can wear the alien hat, $110 will give you this privilege.

Tangled in door at mall

I decided to venture to the mall again, hoping I don't see the lady with the cart again. As I was walking towards a side door of the mall, there was a little old man who got his right coat sleeve caught in the left door handle. He almost appeared like he was in a straightjacket because his left side was pressing into the door and his left arm was not visible. He was struggling to break free. It was just not working for him. I came up behind him and thought to myself how on earth could have done this. I gently pushed him more into the door so that his right sleeve was more slack and peeled it off the door handle. His right arm became free and he was able to untangle himself from his predicament. He was very grateful for my help. He called me Wonder Woman and wanted to buy me a coffee. I kindly declined his generous offer, yet creepy offer and just ran into the mall. Mental note...stay away from the mall.