Friday, January 2, 2009

Outta the oven

All righty, so I'm back here with nothing to do except wait, wait for the first batch to come outta the oven. Except for the fact that I seriously do not know how to switch the oven on. I discovered this a few days ago when the mister asked would I be a darling and just switch the oven on. Of course, I said, yeah right. I spent a solid minute staring at what I know is the oven. But I couldn't put it on, because I do not know how to anyway. And although I watched, I still wouldn't be able to repeat what I saw. Terrible, this oven thing is just terrible. And I feel even more terrible especially when I see my other half scoop up the dinner tray right outta the oven, so professionally with oven gloves too. Oven gloves, I don't think they're nice. I like leather ones. But I don't think they'd do the trick when I recall my physics knowledge. That is the point, I am so armed with knowledge which I never use.

Anyway, I don't like ovens very much. They become so hot that you've got to steer clear of them. I haven't understood much of why this happens, but I'm not a glutton for some scalding burn. Now take washing machines. They're so much better, they will always have me in awe, the way I just throw everything in, and everything comes out so clean. And yes you really can wash everything in a 40 degrees if you use Ariel. Now that sounds so clever, although it's probably the only clever thing I know about housekeeping and it's not as if it hasn't come through trial and error. Fact; I will never be a good housekeeper. Fact; it doesn't bother me one bit. Fiction; I always say maybe next year. More fiction; I really want to learn but somehow I cannot. Even more fact; it's way too boring and I'm better off writing in here.

I guess I must make up for my bad attitude as regards housekeeping in something else. Fact; this is me. Take it or leave it.