Interesting title, no? But before you think I’ve decided to “go Amish”, which I’m not, let me explain things a bit. I’m not really going non-electric, it’s just that as of late it’s feeling like I am being forced into it a little bit at a time. Mr Izz is a big non-electric fan…wait, maybe it would be better, in lieu of the topic matter, to say fanatic (snicker). If he had his way, we’d have severed the ties to National Grid long ago, and quite contentedly (at least in his mind) lived pretending that Mr Franklin never actually found anything useful during that fateful kite flying expedition. Whenever we drive past an Amish farm at dusk, he longingly gazes at the lantern light emanating from the windows, muttering something about how wonderful it would be. I think he’d even don that characteristic C. Everett Koop beard and straw hat, if only the Amish were more Romish. But they are not, so my electricity is safe for now. At least that which is coming from the pole. I have my suspicions about the electric run items here in the house. It all began about 2 years ago…

Mr Izz has a catalog that he adores. It’s the Lehman Non-Electric Catalog. Lehman’s is based in Kidron, OH…right smack in the middle of Amish country. When we were still in Ohio, we lived fairly close to Lehman’s and would try to stop whenever we had to pay a visit to the midwife out there (which seemed to be regularly). But during those rare times that I was not pregnant (ahem), Mr Izz had to content himself with afore mentioned catalog. He loved to droll over all of those lovely things which do not require even one kilowatt of power to use, and he loved even more to tell me all about these items (I got really good at evoking my powers of enthusiasm on such occasions…I could even almost fool myself). You may be wondering how this has anything to do with my story. Well, to confuse you even more, let me tell you about a message board that I frequent. It’s a tin whistle message board, and at one point we were in the midst of a discussion about French presses (yes, on the tin whistle message board. Going off on tangents seems to be their specialty…which is more than likely why I fit in so well). I found out that a French press makes one heck of a cup of coffee, and doesn’t require any electricity whatsoever to run. So I brought this information to Mr Izz, thinking he’d find it quite interesting. Of course I was correct, and to make a long story short, it wasn’t too long before we owned one (from Lehman’s, of course). I fully admit that my coffee was far better and I was very happy with the purchase. But I also know that Mr Izz used my love of coffee and the promise of the perfect cup to fulfill his evil agenda. And despite the French press’s demise, and our having to drag out the automatic drip coffee maker out, he’s still on his crusade. The electric pot, as you may know for earlier postings here, is about to die the death. Coincidence? Perhaps…but there is more to this story that would indicate otherwise.

During our move to the North Country, as we were still in the process of packing up the moving truck, Mr Izz kept pestering me so I forgot to pack up the glass plate that goes inside the microwave so it can run (you have to have it there). Yes, he purposefully did this…I am absolutely sure. Here’s why I know this: since the glass plate didn’t get packed (and of course there is no way in heck it had anything to do with my scatterbrainedness…ahem), Mr Izz decided to put it into the van. Now, he could have made sure that it was well protected, but noooOOOOoooo….he put it in a place where it was inevitable it would end up in a million pieces. Sure, he tried to make it look like he had wrapped it in blankets and all of that, but I know the truth. So when it finally did come crashing down onto the pavement, I wasn’t surprised. He’d been trying to get rid of the microwave for some time anyway…and he’d finally gotten his way. And despite the promises of a replacement plate, I still am in possession of a microwave minus the necessary glass plate. Appalled yet? Oh wait…there’s more…

Regular readers might remember the dryer in our last house that died the death. It was loads of fun to hang laundry out in the snow…I love to hang it up, but not when I have to wade through ankle deep drifts to get to the clothes line. I endured it, however, because I knew that once we moved into this place, my dryer would be taken out of storage and I could use that. But my dreams of the “fluff” cycle were in vain. Apparently the electric coming into the house isn’t enough to support even my gas dryer, therefore we can’t use it. So I’m still washing and hanging, which isn’t too bad except now since the winds are getting a bit nippier and winter is poised to make it’s grand appearance. I, of course, think it’s just one thing of many in Mr Izz’s grand scheme to eradicate all things electric. I wouldn’t be surprised if he rigged the fuses to blow if I even think about using the dryer. But last week was the last straw.

I decided to buy bagels from this really awesome bakery in town…their bagels are to die for. I don’t buy them often, so when I do, I’m usually very excited to toast one and slather it with butter. Yum! But I was patient (I know! Can you believe it?). I wanted until breakfast the next morning to have one. I got breakfast ready for the kids, then took out my bagel (no, I don’t share such wondrous things with the kids. Are you insane?) and gleefully sliced it and popped it into the toaster. They popped up in about a minute, but weren’t even remotely ready, so I popped them down again. It was then that I noticed that the coils weren’t heating up. I tried to pop them down again, but to no avail. The toaster was not working. I started to panic, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to have my toasted bagel after all, until I remember the broiler in my gas stove (notice, it’s a gas stove). I heat it up, put the bagel in there and after much time consuming work, took out my toasted bagel. Sure, it tasted fine, but life would have been much easier if my toaster worked. And how do I know that Mr Izz is responsible? Well, get this….when I went to the office to tell him about it, he didn’t even blink an eye. When I asked if we were going to get a new one, he totally blew me off (!). Of course, you might argue that he was studying and didn’t really even hear me because his mind was on Anatomy and Physiology. But this was far more important than school. This was my toaster we were talking about. His lack of concern for my mental well being over the issue just furthered my convictions that there was sabotage afoot (arrr!).

And all of this just proves that I am going non-electric, albeit forcibly. Today it’s my toaster, tomorrow Mr Izz might have built a big, huge hamster wheel and make us all take turns running in it so he can work on his computer because he snipped the lines coming into the house. Go ahead, scoff. He may look like he’s studying his nursing notes, but I know he’s really building that wheel. Either that, or I need to stop going to all those websites about “conspiracy theories”. But I’m sure that if I went to one of those sites and presented them with these details, they would side with me. Egads…maybe I need to get out my tinfoil hat…that hamster wheel could very well be emitting some kind of thought waves to make me think I want to go non-electric! Have to run…..

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