Oh Glory Be, Now I Have TWO Hamilton Beach Roaster Ovens!

This certainly should come under the category of things that my husband, mother, and brother do not need to know about. But today I found another Hamilton Beach Roaster Oven. At a garage sale. So I bought it. Now, it's my personal opinion that every man at some point in his life buys his spouse, mother, sister or very good friend a Hamilton Beach Roaster Oven, thinking that it must surely be the most useful appliance any woman could have. The problem is that it is so huge that you can cook a turkey in it. And how many times per year, ladies, do we feel the urge to cook a turkey in our great big heavy roaster oven? For myself, I can honestly say that a turkey will never be cooked by me in my lifetime, so a Hamilton Beach Roaster Oven would normally be a great waste of money. But now that I've figured out that I can dye fiber in it, well, the Hamilton Beach Roaster Oven is currently the sexiest appliance I have seen come my way in a long time. And now I have two.

You might wonder just how many Hamilton Beach Roaster Ovens I think I should or could own. I put some careful thought into that as I came home from a garage sale with this gem hogging up the back seat of my van. I think three. Or maybe four, but only if I could find a way to hide them from my family. I am not sure I want them to know about my Hamilton Beach Roaster Oven fetish. Also, I am not sure how one goes about keeping the pan inside from rusting.

You might also wonder what my daydreams are like when I ponder my Hamilton Beach Roaster Ovens, and so I must tell you that I picture myself lolling outside in the driveway, perhaps leaning back comfortably on my chaise lounge, as my fiber bubbles away in half hour increments. Occasionally I will leap up and migrate fiber to my collander (which I confess I have not yet found at a garage sale, but it certainly can't be too far into the future before I do), and then I will pick a new color out and start a new round of dying.

In the meantime, I think I must tell you about the most useless appliance that we ever bought my mother when we were children. And it was (drumroll please): the Presto hotdog cooker. Did you own one of these? It was this electric device, and I think you sort of scewered the hotdogs on it, and they cooked by the wonders of electricity. My sainted mother does not like new appliances, but she did her best to demonstrate her love for us by cooking hotdogs on this thing. As I recall, electrically cooked hotdogs did not taste good, but that didn't stop us from trying.