My dishwasher gave up the ghost over the weekend. Not the motor or anything serious, thank god, just the door hinge. So my precious, time saving machine is now sadly silent in the middle of my kitchen, door all askew and pathetic.
And how fun was it to actually do dishes after dinner? Instead of spending 5 minutes doing the wine glasses and the stuff that doesn't fit into my precious machine, I spent 30 minutes doing everything. Every fork, every plate, every pot. I told Scott that there's no way I'm ever going to bake until it's fixed and he's lucky we're not eating off paper plates as it stands. The baking thing lasted about 12 hours. I have to bake. it's my raison d'etre. I made a gorgeous white cake with Italian buttercream frosting. The buttercream was a mess because it involved egg whites and cooked sugar. Tons of sticky dishes. I discovered the trick of having a sinkful of hot soapy water to just drop things in. But I don't want tricks. I want my baby back baby back baby back....
Hopefully we'll get a hinge soon and come out of the land of the Luddites and into the light of the technologically advanced. It's scary here and my hands are all pruney.