Tonight I made pizza dough from scratch. No, it’s not ground hog day. Last week I baked Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins. But, the fact that I baked two times in one week (two more times than I’ve baked in the past 43 years), might make you feel like you’re tuning into an episode of The Twilight Zone. We wouldn’t want that so I’m not going to share the story of my amazing pizza (with a few hiccups of course) because just as I opened up the oven door in the hopes that I’d be enveloped by the aroma of all things tasty, this happened.

Instead, I’m going to share with you a story that won’t make you have to cover your ears.

If you’ve never seen a picture of my oven (this one was taken in Mexico but the one in Canada gets about as much use), you should start here. If you’re surprised then you’re definitely not stopping by here enough.

And so the story begins last week when Mike and Sue* came over for a visit. After living beside us for seven years and keeping up with our blog, not much surprises them. Or so they thought.

We spent the hour reconnecting after four months (in case you didn’t know, we winter in Mexico and if you didn’t know, where have you been!?), eating snacks and enjoying some libations. Being the good host that I am, I offered Sue her choice of beverages from our wine cellar.

I’ll never forget her face or the sound of her laughter.

Doesn’t your Dishwasher Serve as a Wine Cellar?

*For the past seven years, I’ve been suggesting that their names might have been changed to protect their identity but let’s be real.

Note that after five years of owning the dishwasher, we’ve never actually used it for it’s intended purpose. So why did we buy it you ask? Well, to serve as additional counter space of course (it’s a portable dishwasher).

Given the State of my Oven does my Dishwasher really Surprise You? @zoojourneys http://t.co/3TjyhzA2bL

— Journeys of The Zoo (@zoojourneys) May 14, 2015

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