Home Home on the Range

Well...we did it.  After 32 years, several solderings and multiple minor repairs , we purchased a new kitchen stove from the very same furniture store that the original stove was purchased.
 
The new stove is nice. It's white. Three small burners, one large. No clock. No timer. No light--not even in the oven. No electrical dash plug in.  Oven is NOT self clean.
 The top  shiny ledge is curved, leaving no place for salt and pepper and other traditional decor on top of stove.  
It is  probably the most Plain Jane basic electric stove on the market.
Nice. Serviceable.  Looks and is adequate.

That was about 2 weeks ago--the purchase that is.  It is still a nice, white, clean,  new stove sitting on top of the last of the carton it came in--unused and basically unwanted.

 It rests in the middle of the kitchen floor.

I can't do it.  I can't trade the  blackened and brazed almond coloured Admiral  stove  with the broken broiler element , whose  timer and clock have long since ceased to be functional ; that no longer has a safe self cleaning oven, with  the black glassed  door that had to be replaced only once due to the fact that S..... Happens in every family.

This original stove is the one that was bought with wedding money and chosen by my then new husband and his father, and was unseen by myself until the grand 'unveil' as it was unloaded from the truck from its trip from the big city. 

I am not sure why I won't just Let It Go  exactly but it might have something to do with  the fact that this stove  is the symbol of my connection with a long gone household of  hungry and busy family members that needed  care and nourishment. 

  This stove served as not only an instrument to provide  healthy family sustenance  over the course of 25+ years, but it also was the tool used to help try to convey the message of  the love that was felt for each one of its members. Alas, there were times when this message might have become a bit muddled in the translation especially when one thinks of the episode involving Cornish Hens and the Christmas Supper and also the Rancid Buckwheat Cabbage Roll incident at a dinner that ended up being a simpler and more tasty fare of  Peanut Butter and Jam Sandwiches.

There wasn't a meal made without prior thought and careful judgment going into the choosing of what would  be presented; whether it was favourite pancakes in various shapes, special meat loaves, or fresh breads. Nutritional balance along with an attempt to satisfy the taste preferences of the majority were always at the forefront of any meal preparation and that stove was a central part of the process.  The thoughts that pass through one's mind while preparing any repast are primarily thoughts on how the food would be received,  sometimes hoping that the old standby of tuna casserole would be enjoyed for the umpteenth time as much as, perhaps , upon another occasion, a new recipe would turn out as well as the picture in the cookbook portrayed it to be.

The choice of porridge to cook in the morning, the type soup to be consumed at noon, and the method and manner the meat would be prepared for supper was always chosen with thought of the would be consumers. 
 
  That awkward sticking of the oven door which doesn't quite open  smoothly as one takes out and puts in roasters, pans, and  cookie sheets along with  the accompanying grating sound, triggers not only remembered smells but also the feeling of satisfaction that comes from the   accomplishment  of a goal after much planning and consideration for the benefactors of the products. 


The successful baking of loaves of bread, buns, cinnamon buns,  pita breads, bagels, cakes, doughnuts, turkeys, chickens,   roasts, sausages, pies and tarts, raisin desserts, chocolate deserts, and  Christmas cookies along with even a rabbit and a goat or two,  all involved that piece of metal and wire.  Not to forget also, the watching of the boiling of the Palt and the making of spaghetti sauces with earnest helpers standing on chairs to see the process.

The myriad of birthday cakes  (at least 150), along with pans and pans of oatmeal cookies , pots of  boiled potatoes  to be later buttered and mashed ( referred to as clouds in the family vernacular) ,  and Easter Eggs boiled are pretty much uncountable.  The  numerous cupcakes  for school lunches and noon hour sales seem like a blur.

Yes , the burners have been changed numerous times.   Yes, the oven can no longer safely be considered 'self clean'  due to undo flamage and not enough insulation, along with  the need to use a knife to  regulate the knob designated to control oven temperature.   But even the smudge prone black glassed oven door with the obligatory stickers from years  past still stuck on,  holds memories of  long ago babies looking at themselves in the reflection in awe and dismay,  and serves as another blow to the chance that that new stove sitting unplugged and ignored while blocking our path to the cupboard will ever get installed and used.
  The  nicknack's that sit atop the  old stove ledge are some that were given  to me as presents from a little child years ago...a little cow bell, a balancing tightrope walker, and a plaque proclaiming the important steps of marriage... will all have a place to call home for a little while yet.