When we remodeled the kitchen, I went looking for a gas range top that sat high above the counter. The higher cook tops give you more room underneath the counter so that you can have drawers instead of wasted space.
So we designed the cabinets with two drawers directly under the cook top; one for cooking utensils (spatulas, spoons, tongs) and one drawer for hot pads and mittens. Everything right where you need it.
I loved my range top but somewhere along the way I think my little Kenmore has decided to blow me up or at the very least, give me a heart attack.
One day, after cleaning it and running the knobs through the dishwasher, a loud snap came from the kitchen. When I went to investigate there was smoke coming from the back burner. I was home with two of my granddaughters, my husband was at a professional photographers meeting. The girls and I could smell gas and smoke and heard a couple of little snap, crackle, pops!
I instructed the girls to go to the back of the house, furthest away from the kitchen. I called the fire department and explained what was happening and they said they would come check it out.
When my husband drove up to the house there was a fire truck at the street with red lights flashing. Poor guy! He is an ex-RFD fireman so he came in and "the guys" stood in the kitchen talking while the girls and I huddled under pillows and quilts in the bedroom. They had unplugged the stove 15 minutes earlier and were just shooting the breeze while I'm in the back muttering "Our Fathers" and "Hail Marys"!
Last July, while cleaning the cook top, the electronic ignition started clicking, some snap, crackle and pop; a little plume of smoke and I went running. I peeked from around the corner in the hall and carefully sniffed the air. No gas, no hissing, no more Rice-Krispies s-c-p's, just the continuous sound of the ignition...click, click, click.
Three months later, my I-can-fix-it-myself-cheaper husband (love you, baby) and several parts exchanged because they were the same part # but didn't fit, I finally called Sears to come out and it cost $70 to fix. In the meantime, we probably spent $500 eating fast food because it was summer in Redding and it is absolutely absurd to use your oven in the extreme heat.
Today, while cleaning my beautiful, frickin' stove, click, click, click. I threw open the cabinets under the drawers, I couldn't find the plug, it was behind the drawers. I started to pull out the drawers to get to plug. Side note: the thought of being blown up really gets the bladder feeling at maximum capacity.
Drawers down (the cabinet's, not mine), I pulled the plug and the clicking stopped. My dilemma?
Do I just call Sears and not tell Frank until the stove is repaired? Do I call the RPD and tell them I am being threatened by my gas range? Do I call my therapist and see if she will up my meds?
One thing for sure, I am so done cleaning my stove...I think it likes Frank more than me anyway!
So we designed the cabinets with two drawers directly under the cook top; one for cooking utensils (spatulas, spoons, tongs) and one drawer for hot pads and mittens. Everything right where you need it.
I loved my range top but somewhere along the way I think my little Kenmore has decided to blow me up or at the very least, give me a heart attack.
One day, after cleaning it and running the knobs through the dishwasher, a loud snap came from the kitchen. When I went to investigate there was smoke coming from the back burner. I was home with two of my granddaughters, my husband was at a professional photographers meeting. The girls and I could smell gas and smoke and heard a couple of little snap, crackle, pops!
I instructed the girls to go to the back of the house, furthest away from the kitchen. I called the fire department and explained what was happening and they said they would come check it out.
When my husband drove up to the house there was a fire truck at the street with red lights flashing. Poor guy! He is an ex-RFD fireman so he came in and "the guys" stood in the kitchen talking while the girls and I huddled under pillows and quilts in the bedroom. They had unplugged the stove 15 minutes earlier and were just shooting the breeze while I'm in the back muttering "Our Fathers" and "Hail Marys"!
Last July, while cleaning the cook top, the electronic ignition started clicking, some snap, crackle and pop; a little plume of smoke and I went running. I peeked from around the corner in the hall and carefully sniffed the air. No gas, no hissing, no more Rice-Krispies s-c-p's, just the continuous sound of the ignition...click, click, click.
Three months later, my I-can-fix-it-myself-cheaper husband (love you, baby) and several parts exchanged because they were the same part # but didn't fit, I finally called Sears to come out and it cost $70 to fix. In the meantime, we probably spent $500 eating fast food because it was summer in Redding and it is absolutely absurd to use your oven in the extreme heat.
Today, while cleaning my beautiful, frickin' stove, click, click, click. I threw open the cabinets under the drawers, I couldn't find the plug, it was behind the drawers. I started to pull out the drawers to get to plug. Side note: the thought of being blown up really gets the bladder feeling at maximum capacity.
Drawers down (the cabinet's, not mine), I pulled the plug and the clicking stopped. My dilemma?
Do I just call Sears and not tell Frank until the stove is repaired? Do I call the RPD and tell them I am being threatened by my gas range? Do I call my therapist and see if she will up my meds?
One thing for sure, I am so done cleaning my stove...I think it likes Frank more than me anyway!
camp stove
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