It is, of course, embarrassingly dirty, but it lives! Huzzah!
Turns out it was a fairly easy fix. David pulled the whole unit out, unscrewed the side panel, and discovered that the springs on the hinges had snapped. A couple new springs later (filched from his dad’s stash, so they were free fifty-free) and we have ourselves a functional oven door.
Granted, it doesn’t stay open on its own now. I have to hold it open while put things in or take them out, otherwise it’ll snap shut on me like a giant burny mousetrap, but I don’t even care. We’ll make it work until we’re ready to invest in the oven(s) we really want.
And you know what this means…my 30 cakes gig is back in business! I’ve got all kinds of baking plans for this week and I’m itching to get started.
Three cheers for my wonderfully handy husband! Have I ever mentioned how much I love being married to this guy? He’s the bestest
(Dear David, Don’t be mad that I posted kind of a goofy photo of you on the interwebs. It was the most recent one I could find [which is sad–we need to take more pics of ourselves] and your gingerbread treehouse was amazing. Love, Jen)
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