Finding time for blogging is hard. That’s what I’ve learned this year. I like to write (I just wrote a GREAT letter to the editor of the local paper; if they publish it, I’ll post the link), but some days (um, okay, all of them for the past two months) it just seems easier not to.
Enough already with the guilt and the shame! I have a brief but bittersweet story to share: my grandmother’s waffle iron bit the dust a few weekends ago. The waffle iron I’ve been eating delicious waffles out of for more than 30 years. We figure it must have been at least 40 years old and was chockers full of memories for me of Sunday mornings at my grandparents’ house. They’d set it up on a TV tray next to the dining room table, so that my grandma could cook AND eat AND serve her family smoking hot waffles – no slaving away in the kitchen for this woman! When my grandma died several years after my grandpa, I took some of her art…and the waffle iron. With the old GE logo on it. With the 2-prong electrical cord. It hung on for another 15 years, and then died. In a city where I don’t know of anybody that can fix old school waffle irons.
So today I went to the local appliance shop and bought a brand spanking new Cuisinart waffle iron. It came with a 3-year warranty – which had me laughing out loud – “3 years! My grandma’s came with a 40-year warranty!” – which of course I have no proof of, but still. The owner of the shop wasn’t that impressed. The picture on the front of the box has me giddy with anticipation for this coming weekend though; we will make Cuisinart waffles, my kids will drown them in syrup and I will fondly remember weekends with my grandmother.
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