Loading...
The Rural Voice, 1992-02, Page 8AST CHANCE TO SAVE $$ ON •Heat Lamps •Dimmer Fixtures ONTARIO HYDRO $5.00 & $20.00 REBATES END FEB. 28/92 CALL THE LIGHT BULB. PEOPLE ANYTIME I.C.D. LITES Stratford 519-271-9352 BEST PRICES/FREE DELIVERY INCOME TAX AND FARM MANAGEMENT SERVICE Income Tax • farm, business, or personal • complete year-round service including tax audit representation Farm Management • arranging leases to qualify for tax rebates • Farm Start and other forms prepared • farm debt review assistance Over 11 years' experience Quality work at reasonable rates "FREE CONSULTATION" Stephen Thompson Box 387, Blyth 523-4916 4 THE RURAL VOICE COOKING: IT CAN GIVE YOU A REAL CHARGE Gisele Ireland is from Bruce County. Her most recent book, Brace Yourself, is available for $7 from Bumps Books, Teeswater, Ontario, NOG 2S0. There must be thousands of peo- ple out there who'd love to get a real lift once in a while, but never get one. Not me. I get a lift at least once a day, and sometimes more often. In fact, it's difficult to pinpoint where these lifts come from and what they are doing to me. You see, I get my "lift" from the stove. For weeks, there was a silent bat- tle between me and the stove. It would zap me whenever it felt like it, and I tried to convince Super Wrench I was being stir -fried by this electrical monster. He'd saunter over to the same element that had just sent me staggering across the room and not get so much as a twinge. "Have you been taking your menopause medica- tion regularly?" he'd ask me with an ill -concealed smirk. "You might just be having hot flashes, you know." The stove was pretty choosy about when it would give me electrical mental therapy, mostly when there was no one around to see me go into convulsions. It always lost something in the description later on, even if singed earlobes and smoking hair were still in evidence. They finally believed my electric trips when our son got a zap that sent him to his knees. He was stirring scrambled eggs with a fork in a cast iron fry pan. Because of this abso- lutely horrible experience, immediate action had to be taken. I couldn't get over it; one negative experience and the cavalry is called in. My daughter and I had been getting electric thera- py for weeks and all we got were rude comments and skeptical remarks. I was at the point where I didn't think I'd had a good day if the stove hadn't attacked me via its wires. The electrician came when I was home alone. He listened patiently while I informed him of all the trials and tribulations the stove had put me through. Super Wrench came in, and in no time the electrician had him convinced it was just a little tingle voltage. "We all know how sensitive the ladies are," he said knowingly. With a wink at Super Wrench, he took out a little gizmo and let on he was really giving the stove the once- over. He couldn't find a thing wrong, and left. Just a few hours later, I was sim- mering a steak on one element, and vegetables on another, using two cast iron pans. I touched both handles, one in each hand, and the world lit up. The steak ended up under the table and the vegetables decorated the side of the cupboards. It had given me just a few volts more than usual and I wasn't prepared. It did make Super Wrench question the electri- cian's diagnosis. He went to town, brought back a little kit and rewired the terminals on the element that had had me break dancing. The repairs worked for seven meals, then I was back to cringing when I had to place anything on the burner, and the men, including the electrician who had the sensitivity of a doorknob, were back to trying to figure out what was loose. I just knew it wasn't my screws. Since its first zap, the stove has developed a personality of its own, and it seems to have incited the water heater to act up as well: it whistled strangely the other day, emitting gur- gles with ominous regularity. I was debating whether to just phone a psy- chiatrist or try to convince Super Wrench there was something strange going on inside the water heater. As it turns out, I didn't have to do either. He went downstairs and was greeted by a foot of water in the cellar. It seems the problem was self-explana- tory. Too bad the stove wouldn't ex- plode. Then I'd be exonerated too.0