Today's Thevictorian Festivities

If a picture is worth a thousand words...

...I only have a few thousand left for today's tale. This is a collection of prizes for the impending competitions at my sister the ex-mayor's wife's party this evening. It is my second year to be in charge of the swag. There are actually more gift bags, but The Pony only chose the ones that appealed to him for the picture. I have a sneaking suspicion that he is especially fond of the pink-and-red striped Victoria's Secret bag. The rules are that small prizes must only cost a dollar, and three grand prizes must cost between five and ten dollars each. We had a delightful time selecting these treasures.

In case you have a pair of bifocals finally liberated from The Charlatans Optical Delusions Emporium and Professional Prevaricators Shoppe, allow me to elaborate on what you are looking at. We have a pair of felt reindeer horns wrapped around a peppermint note-pad with candy-cane striped pencil, a festive serving tray, a mug with double-chocolate cocoa powder, a gingerbread man soap dispenser, a tube of tiny festive foil bows and ribbon, a bag of Gummi Worms, a box of Skittles, a Santa rubber ducky, cookie cutters, a Christmas tree soap dispenser, a Christmas tree flip-top jar, a Playful Pigs calendar, a squeaky felt squid dog toy, a four-pack of assorted jams, and a ceramic Santa with floppy plaid legs, suitable for mantle-sitting. Oh, and the collapsible umbrella grand prize is bashful and unphotographed. Please note that the soap dispensers are full of liquid soap. Can't beat that with a stick!

And now, for today's moment of angst. I have been baking the traditional Thevictorian Oreo Cakes. Each stepson gets one, and we have one for the Mom gathering, and then I made one a few weeks back for Thanksgiving. All of a sudden, I have forgotten how to bake a boxed cake mix. Or so it would seem.

Each of the cakes have had issues with the center remaining gooey. It can't be all my fault. I follow the instructions to a T. It doesn't matter whether I use store-bought eggs or our own chicken fruit. I used the same measuring cup. I bake at the recommended temperature, for the recommended time. Herein lies the problem. I think my oven is broken.

Here's a major clue. In all of my episodes of Chex Mix creation this year, the big roasting pan that I place on the top shelf of the oven has tried to burn. It doesn't, because I stir it every 15 minutes. But that pan gets darker than the others. Here's the key piece of evidence. On that first batch of Chex Mix, a single Cheerio fell out of a pan and onto the oven floor. This has happened in years past, and before that batch of Chex Mix is done, any droppings have been incinerated to a tiny smidgen of charcoal. This single Cheerio lives on. It is as golden as the day it was milled and extruded in the factory. And it's laying just below the bottom coil! I left it there to see if it would burn up. A kind of science experiment, you know. And also because I'm lazy, and bending over even one more time after 18 bends during a Chex Mix episode is too much.

I think my bottom coil is broken. That would explain the top coil working overtime, heating that upper Chex Mix, and the bottoms of my cakes remaining gooey. I told Hick this morning that I think my bottom coil is broken. Do you know what he said, after a loaded pause, in a you-are-too-dumb-to-understand voice?

"Are you putting it on bake, or broil?"

Give me a freakin' break already! As if I have used that oven for 25 years and still have not mastered the ol' BAKE/BROIL conundrum!

Of course, in Hick's mind, that scenario is far more plausible than a 25-year-old oven having a part that might need to be replaced.

Val don't get no respect.