So, this is a story about my Stove that’s kind of not about my stove.
The short story that is entirely about my stove is this: It was really dirty and now it’s mostly clean.
The long story is this:
I’ve never had a gas stove before. I don’t do much of the cooking, and my husband wasn’t really taught how to deep clean things, or clean as he goes. Our stove was gross. Really gross. I’d “clean” it and the surface stuff would come up, but it was grimy. Black and brown and caramel colored baked into the enamel. I just kind of assumed it was permanently damaged and discolored.
We’re planning to buy our first house and to tell tumblr the honest truth, I’m shitting a brick over it. I can handle the money, I can handle the permanence, I can definitely handle more space and autonomy. But I’m petrified I can’t handle the cleaning, that it’s going to be a slum, that I’ll ruin the property values and the yard will grow over with weeds and we’ll have to charge admission to our dust bunny races around the corners of the living room to afford the maid I obviously need and can’t afford. After all, I try my best here, and I ruined the stove by not cleaning it “right” or “enough” for three years.
So I said, no. I am capable of cleaning a stove. I can get this clean. And here we are, 3 magic erasers and 4 broken nails and 3 days of occasional 20 minute bursts, and it’s …cleanish. It’s still a stove. Some parts are blackened and there’s a few paint chips. There’s still some things I can’t get up and my fingers hurt too much to try anymore. But this? I can maintain. I didn’t ruin anything! It’s white and it looks clean and no one would reasonably be embarassed to own this stove!
I’ve been sick a lot of the last few years. Mentally, physically, I’ve been just staying above water. For most of the last three years, I would have liked a clean stove, but coming up with the time, the energy, the awareness, the self-belief that good things happened to me, the memory to even believe clean stoves were things that existed? That wasn’t on my radar. And it’s still so wonderful exploring the boundaries I once set up for my own safety and sanity. I get to go a little further, pushing at the claustrophobic comfort zone I built. Even if one of those ways is the not-so-thrilling-on-paper housekeeping way. It still feels good.
Anyway, here’s some pictures of my stove.
ps: how do I clean the metal stands? They’re still gunky after a lot of elbow grease and dish soap and vinegar.
pps: only two of the burners light now. please wish me good luck as the water evaporates.