I tend to want to make friends with all around me, including pretty much every inanimate object in my everyday life. Especially the objects I live with. So when our stove, after 13 years, was no longer able to do the job, I wish there had been a retirement option, where it could have had a nice rest somewhere after all these years of baking and boiling and so on. But that’s not how it works. I need an oven that heats up, and a stove of this age is not worth fixing. The fact that most of it works still doesn’t keep it in service.
So we bought a new stove. The old one left first. I felt sad, thinking about how much time I had spent with this stove. And I remember when we bought it, brand-new. It was the first stove I had ever chosen and made no compromises about. The glass cooktop, the nice black color, the simple controls (I didn’t want many options) – all just right.
The deliveryman for the new stove was amused as he disconnected the old one. I guess most people don’t show sadness at the departure of an appliance.
The new one came in, showing no shyness. It slid right into the space where the old one had been. Even looks pretty much exactly the same. Well, that’s a good thing.
I don’t know why I feel a bit upset about this change. Maybe it’s because I still thought of the old stove as brand new, as just having moved in with us a little while ago. I remember my pleasure when I first started cooking on it – it suited me perfectly. I felt I’d done a little something about ordering my world, cooking on this stove. Where did the 13 years go so quickly?
Maybe that’s it.
Well, hello, new stove, I am sure we’ll get along fine and learn each other’s ways very soon. Good-bye, old stove, and thank you.