My first experience with the oven was rather sad. I still didn't have my pc, so I didn't know how to check the temp convertion to adjust the heat. Well, I guessed and put the chicken in. About 1/2 hr. later I went to check it. When I opened the door, a huge cloud of steam and smoke came out of the oven setting off the fire alarm, which we didn't even know we had. DH went to search for the fire alarm while I was opening all the windows and doors to air out the place. Before 5 mins had passed the police were here to check things out. Luckily we were able to shut off the alarm and before the police got to the 3rd floor all was quiet. The chicken was not burnt, but it was the toughest old hen I have ever tried. We really couldn't even eat it. The next day I made soup out of her. It made me remember when a few friends of mine and I went to Sister Tongs farm to help her slaughter and clean her old hens. There were about 100 old chickens in that pen. That was the most disgusting afternoon! Each person had a job. Some had to kill the old hens, others had to hand them up upside down so the blood would drip out. Ugh! Others had to dip them in water and pluck the feathers. My job was to clean out the innards and there were other various jobs. I remember the Sisters taking turns killing the chickens. I just couldn't do it although Sister Ferrari tried and tried to have me take a turn. It was too gross; chickens running all over the pen, flapping their wings, squawking, etc. I guess I would not be a good farmer.
More of our kitchen. I am taller than the refrigerator. Can you imagine that? I am finally taller than something.