The Saga of the Oven

I went cooking crazy last week. So unlike me. Macadamia biscuits, pumpkin soup, a new batch of sourdough starter (because the 1st lot went off, it smelled like a rat had died in our pantry), sourdough bread, honey-soy pork & noodles, bulk batch of bolognaise, chicken stock, a lemon tart, baked risotto, 2 lamb roasts, pancakes. I just couldn't stop. Fixit was getting mighty sick of all the washing up, I can tell you.

I've been forced to stop now. Yesterday I went to bake another batch of the macadamia biscuits (to be followed by a loaf of wholemeal sourdough) and found that, despite a good long period of pre-heating, the oven was stone-cold.

I rang the real estate agents and left a message. I said my oven is broken. We went to Jenny's house with the biscuit dough and baked them in her oven. The agents rang me while I was there. She said What's wrong with the oven? Is the fan not working? I laughed bitterly. No rental house I've ever been able to afford came equipped with a fan in the oven. Let alone a working light.

The agent rang the landlords. They of course needed to come and have a look. So I of course decided that I needed to do an emergency oven-clean before they came and looked. Seeing as how I cleaned the oven exactly ONCE since we moved in 4 years ago. Halfway through that fun job there's a knock on the door and there is Mrs. Landlord (they live 2 doors up from us) come to have a look. She knows nothing about electrical appliances, I think she just wanted to check that I wasn't making it up. She said maybe they couldn't fix it till next week. I said no I must have it by the weekend. She said her husband would come and look after work. She tells me they don't want to get an electrician because they charge you just to have a look. Very expensive. We have lots of bills, she tells me, rates, water....

I have to tell you how much I hate it when our landlords cry poor to us. They have a lovely house to live in filled with all the mod-cons. They also own 2 investment properties, one for each child. I don't begrudge them that, they've worked hard for it. But I think I am the wrong person to whinge to about how hard it is for them.

She tells me Mr Landlord will come to look when he gets home from work. She goes and I get the oven finished and mop the floor so the house looks lovely for his visit. He doesn't show up. He got home late and didn't want to wake our kids. Mrs Landlord shows up this morning. Her husband thinks maybe I knocked the element when I was cleaning the oven? Um no. Because the cleaning happened AFTER the oven was broken. She tells me to call the agent to say get an electrician. Tell them not to send an expensive one. I do that after she goes. I don't mention the expensive bit. The agents need the landlords' say-so to call the sparky, not mine. Mrs Landlord is not answering her phone because she's gone off to work.

I drop my risen sourdough loaf over at Jenny's and she cooks it for me.

I have school holiday mayhem this week, visits here-there-and-everywhere. And I need my oven fixed!! Because in 5 more sleeps it is Cherub's birthday party and I have me some baking to do.