I am a transplant from UT to Alaska.
I don’t multitask well, especially in the kitchen where 2 pans have lost their lives to boiling dry and then catching on fire.
My 3 children think I rock at Rock Band, but only because I told them so.
And I make the best cupcakes in the world.
A popular gift at Mormon Utah wedding receptions 13 years ago was an electric hand mixer from a nationwide chain. It probably cost about $5. And keeping up with wedding gifts everywhere we got ours.
Shortly after moving into our apartment in Provo our landlords/neighbors asked to borrow it.
I pause here to tell you a little about these people and our apartment. It was in one of those once stately homes which had been chopped up into many apartments that can be found all over South-of-Campus-Provo. In our case there were 3. Our 2 bedroom, the landlord’s main 3(?) bedroom and a studio in the back. We all shared a laundry on the side of the house. In order for our landlord’s family to access this laundry room, they had to walk by our 2 very tall living room windows that overlooked the alley and the scary basement steps. Pay attention. Not only is there a quiz later but this is important detail.
Our landlords had 5 kids. He was the custodian for our church building and she was a stay at home mom. The kids were cute enough, if you could see them under the layers of dirt constantly on them, but annoying.
In particular was the second youngest boy. He could make himself puke on command. Which he did. In the alley outside our windows over the railing to the scary basement steps.
And they all woke up really early on Saturday mornings and watched cartoons really loud.
And their Jack Russel mix dog was the yappiest thing ever. JaDee once threatened the kids to bring his own dog (Sasha the temperamental Malamute) to come eat it.
Now our apartment was a real thing of beauty. Remember how the Land Lord Man was a church custodian. Well our apartment was carpeted with scraps of extra chapel fabric. You remember in the late 70s and early 80s when everything was orange? That was what we had in our whole apartment. Including the very steep, very old stairs, but not exactly tacked on tight so if your whole foot went down on a stair tread you would slide off the loose carpet at the back and then slide all the way down.
The stairs were so steep, in fact and so close to the over head ceiling that a queen box spring wouldn’t fit up the stairs. So we bought a king. And while the split box springs fit, the mattress did not. So we put the bed in storage and slept on a feather bed on the floor. From July-December 1996.
Now the bathroom. It was a lovely shade of mauve. Of course it was. Wasn’t that the obvious choice for a home already blanketed in orange carpet.
Oh and the tub did not have a shower or a spigot. It was a pipe coming out of the back of the tub that shot straight out the other end. JaDee rigged some copper pipe and a shower head to make us a shower.
So when our neighbors asked to borrow our $5 mixer it was with some hesitation that I parted with it. And rightfully so. It came back splatter with caked-on-something and smelled not all that faintly of ozone. It was also a tad hot to the touch. I hadn’t even used it yet.
“Sorry.” the landlady tells me. “We were making fudge and it got a little hot.”
Really? I wonder to myself, and take back my baked mixer.
But it has worked fine ever since. As long as you don’t mind the constant speed from level 1-4 with gradual speeding up all on its own like an appliance possessed. Without fail, every time it came out of the cupboard we recalled that time 13 years ago and laugh at the story of the fudge making neighbors and the whole situation we were in as young and married and poor. And for 13 years that $5 mixer has held on.
Until today.
While making frosting it stopped and started to smoke. Hmmm, I thought. This can’t be good. I let it cool off for a bit and tried again. Nothing. The old thing had gave up the ghost.
And so I chucked it. But not without calling JaDee and letting him know that our beloved totem of times past had in fact, passed. We chuckled about the neighbors of old and the other time it got a little hot.
I will be going to the store in search of another $5 dollar mixer (what are my chances of finding one at that price these days and especially in Alaska).
And we will probably still talk about the old one every time we use it.
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