We're in the middle of a heavy cycle of needing to replace worn out, broken things in our house. After such a long time of making things last and stretch and saving up for the day when that old item will just have to be replaced, having new things is actually a harder transition than I thought it would be.
This weekend we got a new stove. I think the last time I encountered a new stove I was 17; it was my mom's new kitchen in a new house that I was about to move out of--and I didn't cook. My whole adult life I've been making do with whatever the apartment/house came with. And it's been fine. I think I like used things or I'm at least very comfortable with them. I'm not sure what freaks me out more; the shiny newness of the oven, the fact that it works so well, or that it's stainless steel.
I'm definitely still in the "whoa, it might get a scratch" phase. I'm completely unprepared for how fast the oven pre-heats and how quickly the water boils/onions burn. And I completely pooh-poohed the whole stainless steel fad, but this model only came in that finish. But I take solace that it's more stainless steel trim with a black top and oven door; black being the color I originally wanted.
In other words, I'm a little crazy and messed up in the head.
New feels like a very different mindset from used. We upgraded our couch this summer by buying our friends' leather couch. Love the couch, love remembering visits with said friends, love that we didn't pay full price for it, and love that it came pre-loved so I don't worry so much when I see my kids launching themselves over it. The couch slid into our lives seamlessly (after the guys huffed it into place).
The oven seems different. Maybe because we were never expecting to replace it. We know our water heater and HVAC are getting extras years through careful maintenance. We know our cars are getting long in the tooth, but our oven? I feel surprised, but I shouldn't be. The death sentence was pronounced in July but with our hot summers, we postponed the purchase just using the grill outside. It's not baking season. So I really had plenty of time to prepare for a new stove.
I think part of me just can't let go of the immigrants' daughter, poor grad student life. The oven just seems too fancy and functional for little ole me. And for that matter so does the leather couch, but at least I know the secret story that it's a hand-me-down.
Ah well, I'll give my little crazy self a hug and get on with jet boiling, stir frying, and convection baking till the cows come home.
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