Home, Home And The Range.

I've delighted you, beyond your wildest dreams, by posting about such fascinating topics as rubber gloves.
If you're really bored, have extra time to waste, instead of checking out those really important bloggers, there is a link included to each photo reference.  So here you go, if you want to read some additional crap written by shy and humble me :  Rubber Gloves.   If you don't want to read this part of the posting, may I suggest you scroll way down to the photograph that has to do with the title of this posting.  I think you will figure it out.  It's way, way down there. I've been tempted to do one of those way too long postings that has loads and loads of pictures.  You know the type of blog, where you scroll down and down and down...pick up on a couple of key words and leave a comment based on those couple of key words.  That way, even though you haven't really read the posting, it almost seems that maybe you sort of , kind of , did.  Happy scrolling......

And 'non-stick' frying pans.  And the link to that 'must read' posting.  That would be if by some unbelievable reason you haven't read this masterpiece of mayhem, before : Non-Stick Frying Pans.

Perhaps reading, or most likely rereading this posting.  I would say it's probably the coolest article I ever wrote : The Talking Fridge.   

And who would not want to discuss which way your 'ass wipe', 'bog roll', also known as 'toilet paper', should be placed on the toilet roll holder : Bog Roll. 

Or the practical wonders of the great British central heating radiator : A Heated Debate.   

Then there was this posting that told you all about the fact that I can actually, sort of use my washing machine : Airing My Clean Laundry.   

Finally, yes finally, now that the very out of character self-promotion has concluded and you may have scrolled down to this part, that's if you're actually still here, I wish to announce to you that I have a shiny new fan oven, complete with shiny new stainless steel pots and pans.
I love my shiny new oven, or cooker, or stove, or range, or whatever the hell you call it.  Oh yes, I've twiddled its knobs and stared at the lights.  I was amazed at just how quickly the ceramic hob heated up.  It really was an element of surprise.

Here is my beautiful new oven with a tranquil blue glow being cast upon it by the gentle ambience of my kitchen lighting and a flash bulb.  So inspired by this vision that I started listening to the music of Beethoven.

If you are still here, please don't grill me over basting, I mean, wasting your time.  In this photo you may have suspected that there had been a power surge caused by some alien 'Mothership' hovering nearby my home.   That would be somewhat reminiscent of an early scene of 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind'.  However, although you may think that, based on this nonsensical posting, that what's left of my brain has been abducted by aliens, I can assure that it's just the oven heating up in preparation for me to stick something in it.
Oh gosh, innuendo alert.  Warm wishes and a pot-bellied stove, your way, Gary, yes, shy and humble, Gary.

Rubber Gloves.

What is it with rubber gloves?  No, not that type of rubber glove!  I'm not talking about the kind you visualise as you smile nervously at the customs guy at the airport.  You start to sweat profusely, dreading the thought of being dragged by two security guards into some back room and told to bend over.  No, I state again, not that type of  rubber glove!

I mean this type of rubber glove.  You are washing the dishes and all seems fine.  The water is very hot and the cups and plates come out sparkly clean.  Then, as if by magic, the mystery hole appears.  How did this happen?  You do not recall suddenly having this weird urge to poke a hole in said glove.
So you're washing merrily away and you realise that your hand is getting very wet and that the water is indeed very, very hot!  You then curse and scream at the rubber glove.  This would be the same rubber glove that you cannot remove without the aid of your teeth.  This would be the same rubber glove, when it was still intact,  required you to blow into it like a balloon just to get the fingers on said rubber glove to reappear.
Of course, you knew you were on to a loser from the outset.  You knew when you bought the gloves that stated 'large' size on them; that they would be more suitable for a 'Munchkin'.  That's if Munchkins even bother doing the dishes.  Probably more interested in some flippin'  'Yellow Brick Road'.
So you get very frustrated with your rubber gloves.  Yet this frustration gives you an idea.  'Hey, I've kept some of the rubber gloves that don't have holes in them, in the cupboard under the sink.  Excellent, I can mix and match!'   So there you go.  One pink glove and one white glove.  Then the water trickles in.
At what lengths we go to avoid 'dishpan hands'.  Not much good when the rubber gloves keep splitting.  Even making a wish to my 'Fairy Liquid', failed.
Yes, I've thought about purchasing a dishwasher.  However, I recall just what a crap machine the last one was.  Ended up taking out all the 'clean' knives, forks, spoons, cups and plates and re-cleaning them in the sink with the rubber gloves that had holes in them.
I've just about had it with this glove affair.  What's glove got to do with it?  All you need is glove.  I'm not in glove.  I wanna' know what glove is?  Well, at least one that works properly.
So, that's just about it.  And remember, no, not that type of rubber glove!