the monster in the kitchen

back when Auntia and Mrs. Moth were taking cake decorating lessons, Auntia burned up our mixer and i had to go buy a new one... 

a mixer that could handle beating a gazillion pounds of royal frosting for thirty-five hours without setting the house on fire... 

okay...

 okay...

 okay...

the poundage and the time may be exaggerated a bit...

 i'm just sayin' 

she did her research and decided that the only mixer that could handle what she was planning on putting it through was this monster...

ugh...

she was gonna call it Black Beauty... 

but after we heaved it outta the box and onto the counter and she plugged it in and turned it on, i decided that it may be black, but it was no beauty... 

it makes the most gawdawful sounds when it's doing its job...

 and it is impossible to keep the dust (especially flour or powdered sugar dust) off of its shiny, glossy, sleek surfaces... 

we have a teeny tiny kitchen without enough cabinet space for canned food and staples, glasses, and dishes, let alone kitchen appliances that are the size of a small horse... 

so the mixer, the toaster, the food processor, the coffee pots (two - one for me and one for her on accounta she and i don't agree on coffee, for the most part), the quesadilla maker, crockpots in just about every size and shape, and the blender (which she just HAD to have after she went to Florida and came back wanting to make butter beer - thanks a LOT, Harry Potter - but we didn't have a way to shave ice) and whatever else - all of it - sit out on the counters and shelves...

 and all of it collects kitchen dust (the worst kind) and looks ugly...

anywho...

when that ugly mixer came to live here FIVE YEARS AGO i decided that i needed to hide it with a cover...

 and i put that on the List... 

i have a BUNCH of Mary Engelbreit fabric in the stash and just knew that it wasn't gonna be a problem...

yeah, right...

sometime last year i decided that what was keeping me from making the cover was i don't like to do my own quilting... 

so i sent a BUNCH of Mary Engelbreit yardage and some white muslin to the World's Most Wonderful Longarm Quilter, Liz Bowman in Milan, Michigan and asked her to quilt something Mary Engelbreitish on it... 

she sent it back quilted with pretty posies and butterflies...

and it sat in a pizza box with two paper patterns (from about thirty years ago) for kitchen appliance covers (that no longer fit the modern world's kitchen appliances) and a Mary Engelbreit panel...

till sunday...

i was on the Pity Pot (Fathers Day always does that to me) and thought i should wander around the Magick Shoppe and look for a distraction that didn't involve snowflakes or skulls...

 my eyes settled on the pizza box labeled kitchen appliance covers...

 it was armed with everything that i needed other than a pattern that would actually FIT the mixer or the food processor or the toaster or the quesadilla maker and if had time to feel sorry for me, i oughta have time to do this, right?!?

i took out the cutting mat and set up Thor Batrastardson in the dining room and went to work...

a few hours and several bad words later...

SO MUCH BETTER!!!

it's not perfect... 

it could be an inch or two longer ... and i'd already cut the curves in the fabric before i realized that it was directional and i had it upside down... 

but it is done...

 and done is better than not done... 

i put pockets on the sides to hold the whisk...

shouldn't that be eat your cake and have it too! ?!? i've always thought that was backwards...

and the dough hook and paddle...

you and me, both, Counselor Troi!!!

 the mixer made the other appliances jealous, so i made a cover for the toaster, food processor, blender, and quesadilla maker, too... 

but then i ran outta steam and decided that the coffee makers didn't need covers on them, anyway, cuz we are always brewing a new pot...

so... 

cross THAT off the List!!!

We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death. That's why we like all the things that we assume have no limits and, therefore, no end. It's a way of escaping thoughts about death. We like lists because we don't want to die.

Umberto Eco