I don't know about you, but I was the teensiest bit disappointed after the Detroit City Council election results were announced in November. I mean, sure, it was a big shake-up and the new members seem energized and intelligent and now it seems like there might actually come a day where you can mention that you're from a Detroit suburb without having to look embarrassed or have someone ask if Detroit is really "empty" but where is the fun in that? Where is the screaming, the name-calling, the lying and the bribing? What are we going to do for entertainment?
Luckily, Incoming City Council President Charles Pugh seems to realize that metro Detroiters need a City Council that not only has the City's best interests at heart but also a little bang for their buck and is publicly accusing Martha Reeves of not moving out of her office fast enough. At Christmas. When she technically doesn't have to be out until December 31.
Today I said goodbye to two appliances; the dishwasher, that I hated, and the waffle maker, that I loved.
The waffle maker was a wedding gift (wish I could remember who gave it to us) and back when we were newlyweds we would get up on the weekends and make waffles together from a recipe my mom gave us that includes club soda. The waffle maker got put away for a few years, then pulled back out again as my kids grew and waffles became the Breakfast Choice in our house. My daughter has been making waffles on her own for years. All with this same 16 1/2 year old waffle maker.
Lately, the waffle maker has been behaving like the dishwasher. Which is to say, sporadically. The last few times I've tried to make waffles I got more "waffle piles" than waffles out of it and today I had to give up and make pancakes with the batter.
Still, it sat on the counter for a few hours before I could make myself throw it out. Is it wrong to love a waffle maker? I don't care. My daughter has already moved on. She's requesting a new waffle maker with a "cool shape." The young can be so cruel.
Luckily, I have a new dishwasher to make me forget my appliance grief. It's stainless and big and shiny and I'm chomping at the bit to dirty up some dishes.
Just wanted to warn ya'll that the world IS ending. I got a call yesterday to audition as ..... a model. I'm 45 years old, haven't worked out consistently since I herniated two disks three years ago, and yet someone is considering me to be a "fit" model for their clothes.
On the other hand, just think about how comfy those clothes will be for the skinny/fit people who end up buying them.