WWMSD: What would Martha Stewart do....

In an effort to keep this blog from being all about fun, lightness and frivolity (to quote Mr. Grant from the MTM show, "After all, life is more than just mirth and whoopy") I thought I would impart some of my adventures with the...nittier-grittier aspects of life here in northeastern Hungary. Namely, my appliances.

I need to name my washing machine. I am afraid of it. Maybe a name will bring down the intimidation factor. Like most of my appliances, my washer is considerably smaller than it's American counterpart. That part I don't mind; I can adjust to doing things on a smaller scale. I'm only one person, after all, and one doesn't exactly sweat bullets in this climate, so I can certainly learn to economize where it concerns laundry. No, the daunting part is the fact that this small machine a) drains into my bathtub, so if I manage to knock the drain hose awry, I will flood my bathroom with detergent and water and b) this small washer makes so much noise I am convinced Soviet tanks are tearing through the building in an attempt to recapture Hungary.

I have successfully done one load of laundry, and #2 is currently being uh..pulverized by this contraption.

Next is my range. Well this isn't Hungary's fault. I'm just not used to gas stoves. I've never lived in a home that had one. It took Mariann showing me how to use it twice in order for me to get it. I attempted to light it on my own between instructional sessions 1 and 2, but I saw no flame and smelled gas so I hastily opened the window and aborted the whole process. Turns out, I wasn't approaching the lighting process with enough  chutzbah (when it comes to things like lighters and gas, I've never been one to exhibit lots of chutzbah). I have successfully cooked a pan of chicken and a pot of rice (which was only minimally burned).

I haven't even touched the oven yet. The teacher who was here before me told me she burned a lot of stuff. 'Nuf said. Will tackle the oven on a day when I feel particularly ambitious. Or when my mom gets here. 

I already tripped a breaker by flipping a light switch. I guess something shorted out because the bulb burned out when I turned on the light, and all the appliances/lights in that part of the flat went out. A little initiative got me through this trial. I stood on a chair so I could gander at the breaker box (or whatever you call that thing) and flipped the switch that didn't look like the others. Boddaboom, boddabing, I had lights again (well except the one burned bulb). Bob Vila ain't got nothin' on me. 

Finally, I must give a shout-out to my bathroom faucet. And shower. Well they are one in the same. See, it goes like this -- when I shower, I turn on the faucet in the sink to the appropriate temperature. Then I pull this little nob, and the water switches from the sink faucet to the shower head. So basically, I have a faucet with a shower head attached to the back end of it. This is not a spatial challenge because the bathroom is so small that the sink is right next to the tub anyway. Really, it's quite a functional little system. Just. Different. 

This would seem to describe many aspects of life here: small, functional, and ...different.