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Mark Atwood
fallenpegasus
fallenpegasus
Bread and Broken Glass
A week or so ago, I decided to use my breadmachine for the first time in a few too many months. Unfortunately, the LRFs (little rubber feet) had been damaged over the years, and it managed to walk off the counter. Crash! Smash! The glass dome shattered. Shards all over the kitchen floor. Crud.

After wiping and sweeping up the mess, I phoned my mother, wurtmann, who has a small hobby of rescuing abandoned breadmachines of my family's preferred make from thrift stores, as I seemed to remember that she had a few broken ones that still had good domes. I remembered incorrectly, she did not, but she promised to keep an eye out.

A few days ago, she IMed, that she had found a new one at the thrift store, that would be replacing hers (which had been used 330 days a year, for ten years), and I could have the dome off hers. Cool.

And then yesterday my ex jezel called me, she had found one for $20 at the ThriftKo at 85th & Greenwood.

So I stopped there on the way to piano lesson, and bought it. It looks like it's been used once. Maybe.

It's right now happily chugging away turning several cups of whole wheat flour dipped from my Elijah's Neverending Barrel (a gift from my parents) into bread, and the smell is making my stomach growl and my mouth water.

(But I still want that dome, Mom. My old R2 unit is perfectly fine, and I dont want to throw it away for the lack of one so easily replaced part.)

Current Mood: hungry hungry

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