When I was an undergrad, I lived in on-campus housing. One of the fire safety rules included a prohibition of toasters. No toasters in our rooms meant no toast, no frozen waffles, no toasted sandwiches ... you get the idea. When I moved to France, there was no way I was going to buy a toaster to fit in the French outlet system. I did have a conventional oven there, that made due, especially for the sandwiches (I used that thing to bake, broil, fry, rotisserie ... you name it!). As I moved in to my first real apartment, I was thrilled at the prospect of having a real toaster. I use it so frequently it doesn't even have a place in the cabinet, it just stays on the counter for easy access. Now, as I am considering my options for the future, I have come to regard another cooking device as ideal. For my next apartment, I am going to actively seek a grill of some kind. It will be glorious to not have to broil or sautee all of my fish, to not have to bake or fry the chicken, to make ...
Ashburn, the latest frontier. These are the voyages of adventurer Heather; her continuing mission to explore strange new worlds. To seek out life for her suburban family, to boldly go through foster care adoption.