Tag Archives: oven

1574. Steffie’s fabulous oven

(Notes: A North Carolina dumpster is what we in New Zealand call a skip. I don’t know what the things are called anywhere else. The long-named oven is taken from a junk email I received. China was trying to sell me one!)

Butch Carson loved his meat. Every night he’d expect a roast dinner. None of this namby-pamby vegetarian nonsense that the wives of others foistered on their husbands. Steffie had learnt early in the marriage that roast beef was almost a minimum requirement. Not even chicken fitted the bill.

“Chicken is for sissies, just like vegies are for dorks.”

Honestly! If Steffie didn’t have a plasmon-induced-photoelectrochemical-biosensor-for-in-situ-real-time-measurement-of-biotin-streptavidin-binding-kinetics-under-visible-light-irradiation oven, then there was no way she could hold down a full-time job and raise six kids at the same time. The plasmon-induced-photoelectrochemical-biosensor-for-in-situ-real-time-measurement-of-biotin-streptavidin-binding-kinetics-under-visible-light-irradiation oven was a godsend. She had saved up for it over two years, secretly putting aside every week a few dollars from her meagre wages until she was able to go into a shop and say:

“Could I have one plasmon-induced-photoelectrochemical-biosensor-for-in-situ-real-time-measurement-of-biotin-streptavidin-binding-kinetics-under-visible-light-irradiation oven please.”

Butch wasn’t too happy about it. He reckoned the oven affected his television reception during the day when she had set the oven to slow cook the roast while she was at work. When the plumber came to fix the shower Butch got the plumber to throw the oven into the dumpster.

The next day, Steffie took the six kids and buggered off.

1543. Southern winter solstice

Jakob was cold. It had been a frigid winter. Jakob didn’t have much money and was out of firewood. The fireplace lay dead. The freezing outside wind seeped through the cracks in his window frames. He had covered the cracks with tape, but the wind still found a way. He was wrapped in clothes and blankets. He simply could not get warm.

Jakob had stayed up all night. Not even the bed had warmed. Jakob turned on his oven to high and opened the oven door. At least the oven heat should warm things a little. And it did. At least it did until the electric bill arrived and he couldn’t pay it. Then the electric company turned the power off.

It had been a freezing night. Utterly freezing. Jakob knew he would die. He sat in a chair and waited.

The new day dawned sunny and warm.