Of course, the stove breaks....

when you need to have three dozen cookies by Saturday afternoon and you find out about it at 9:50 p.m. I can't tell what is funnier: trying to fix the oven by directions over the phone or attempting to cook biscuits at 450 degrees in a toaster oven (I'll say it kind of works, but not very successfully and I wouldn't do it on a regular basis....we'll put it in the same boat at a blow-torch broiler). Who knew that you could have an electric gas stove (no, I'm not pulling one on you or being a girl that doesn't know what she's talking about). Evidently, we have no regular pilot light. We have a pilot light that comes from an electrical charge. Yeah, I don't really understand why, either. All I have to say is that I've always hated that stupid oven. Oh well, God's blessing seems to come even at times that surprise us. Someone out here in po-dunk nowhereville actually has the part and will tell Nathan how to fix it himself to save money. How gracious God is to us (even when we complain about the things He blesses). It is almost enough to make me want to like that stupid oven.