Gas, Food... Nipples?

When we purchased our new stove this winter, we were unpleasantly unsuprised to find that it did not quite fit into this old, uneven, sloping, mismatched house. It stuck out into the walkway leaving a teeny, tiny space to get in and out of the oven (the island in the center of our kitchen doesn't really help either. The thing is so big that once I swore I spotted Jack and Kate looking for some way off the darned thing). This led to burned knees and a sore back from twisting to get cast iron pans and cookie sheets in and out of the hot box (My right eyebrow is now a bit shorter from a close call with a hot pizza stone). And so, once again, I was called out of "handyman" retirement to replace the gas line with shorter, more accomodating fittings.


When working with gas, it is always important to consult a professional. Luckily, I had one on hand. At first, I wasn't sure if Mason was up to the job. He seemed distracted by the red of the wrenches and the silver backing of the stove.


However, once I got his attention on the nipples, his professionalism came shining through. Mason proved to be an expert when it came to nipples. He gave me the advice and the confidence I needed to get the job done. Together, Mason and I reclaimed over 2 inches of floor space. My knees were thankful for a job well done, and I even think I felt my right eyebrow raise with a regained confidence.