Um, I think I broke my slide-in range/oven combo thingy.
It is a Frigidaire Compact 30, circa 1971, in Harvest Gold. I told myself I was not going to remodel the kitchen for a full year. SPEND. NO. MONEY. But hey, that doesn't mean I can't take apart my oven and clean the hell out of it, right?
Well, first I couldn't get the stove top off to clean underneath because, hey, it was built in 1971 so everything is screwed on as opposed to the new ones with a handy hinge that makes it easy to open and clean.
So, have I told about my new across-the-street neighbor, Gary? Oh my god, his entire garage is wallpapered in tools and every night he is out there working on...something. The current project is a set of shelves to surround his projection TV. Not to be confused with the TV he has mounted up in the corner of the garage because he is out there every waking/non-paycheck-job-working moment.
So, I popped over to my new best friend Gary's garage for help getting the corroded and stripped-out screws out of my stove top so I could take it off and access the gross and disgusting underneath part had has obviously not been cleaned in the 36 years since its birth. Gary inadvertently left a pick here, which I will give back at some point but am currently sticking in every crevice I can find because who can get into those small places with regular tools?
It is true: you can do anything with the right tool.
I merrily spent the next 3 hours disassembling and scrubbing my incredibly old and decrepit stove. Then I tried to put it back together.
::sigh::
It was going well until I touched something with a wet finger and...ZZZZZTT! It wasn't so bad, really, but then I tried to put the face plate back on where all the twirly knobs go and apparently applied a little too much pressure. Sparks and a metallic smell are bad, right?
I am currently shopping for a new slide-in range. Maybe I can get one for cheap to tide me through the year until I remodel the kitchen.
Tags: home repairs, homeowner
The Reflector-Vest Mafia
I drive by an elementary school every morning on my way to work. It's a madhouse with all the parents jockeying for prime dropping-off position with their enormous SUV's. But that is not what I want to talk about.
What I want to know is what the little guys in reflector vests are doing stationed at the crosswalks. Now I am not talking about the crossing guards. Those people are taller and carry a big Stop sign. I don't see much of them, which is perhaps a major contributing factor in the aforementioned chaos. No, I am talking about the shorties in reflector vests stationed at each end of each crosswalk. They do not have a Stop sign but they do wear bright orange reflective vests and thus look quite official.
Yet they do nothing. I did see one kicking the toe of his shoe into a clump of grass growing in a sidewalk crack one time. Meanwhile, other kids venture into the crosswalks willy-nilly while people like me, who just want to get to work already, creep along waiting for a tiny body to fling itself in front of the vehicle.
What. Is. Their. Purpose?
The only thing I can think of is they are there to chaperon the pee-wees as they cross, but that can't be right. I don't think they make children smaller than the Mini-Me's in reflector vests.
Maybe they are school mascots. You know, the Cruikshank Reflectosauruses.
Yeah, that must be it.
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(I didn't have the energy for a Freaky Friday post this week. Maybe next week.)
Tags: school crossing guards, refelector vests
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