LOTS TO DO

Boredom has never been part of my DNA. Even in these restricted coronavirus times, I can always find something to do—other than getting into my car, driving to a store and bringing back a bag filled with viruses to distribute to my neighbors.  Consequently, I am staying in my apartment, and doing a daily walk-about in my beautiful neighborhood.

However, this morning, while examining two overly ripe bananas, I got an insatiable desire to bake banana bread. I waited for ten minutes for the feeling to go away, but it did not, so I proceeded to take the stored pots and pans out of my oven allowing it to do what it was intended to do—Bake something!

Then, I stood and stared at the oven dashboard. There are no dials. All of the appliances in my apartment are state-of-the-art and this dashboard was probably adapted from the dashboard in a 747 airplane. In order to turn the heat on, you place your finger on the area that says, “Bake.” I figured I can do that. Then nothing happened. I stared at the oven and said, “Well, start baking.”  That didn’t help. Then I put my finger on “Cook Time.” It lit up and I pressed 375. Miracle of miracles, the numbers began to advance from low to high and stopped at 375. By then, the cake was ready to go into the oven. I was too intimidated to press the “Timer.” I figured, I could time the bake time on my trusty wristwatch. However, I did press  “Oven Light,” and my cake pan was lit up.

So far, so good. My cake was finished, and I touched “Off.” The oven heat went off, but the oven light stayed on.  I kept pushing “Off.” Then I got out the instruction book. My husband used to say, “When all else fails, follow the instructions.” The book gave instructions what to do if the light does not go on, but even in Chinese, I am sure that nothing was advised about if the light does not go off.

The oven was cool. The light remained on. I called the apartment maintenance department, and luckily one of the good guys was in the apartment next to mine, so he came right over. He opened the oven door,   slammed it shut and it was obvious that when he touched “Off” he had scared the light to death. Now I know that slamming is the modus operandi.

Feeling unusually brave, I turned my refrigerator ice-maker back on. I’m not sure if it will work the way it is supposed to, because the last time it was on, the cubes enthusiastically overflowed and filled the bottom of my freezer compartment.

Also, I am not sure if the dishwasher is supposed to take 2 1/2 hours to clean the dishes, but they come out clean, and I figure,”What’s the hurry? I am retired.”

I learned quickly not to overload the washing machine. The dryer is sitting right on top of it. The first time I overloaded the washing machine, it shook and rattled and I thought that both the washer and drier would shake themselves out of the closet and chase me around the room.

Nope! It’s not boring around here—-not boring at all!

Esther Blumenfeld