When we moved into our house, it was still without a stove. We were told by a couple of local people that gas was more economical to use than electric. On the other hand, we had two other Shkodrans, as they call themselves, both tell us that gas really scares them.
The owner of the hostel that we had stayed in had an extra stove. It's on the older side. She said that we could have it for a good price. Edward decided to buy it. The stovetop had two electric burners and two that worked with gas. The oven was solely gas.
It was the end of June and almost time to bake a cake for our youngest child's birthday. Up until that point, we had just been using the electric burners. Edward had already bought a gas tank. Now, he went and had the gas tank filled. He had to get a gas line as well. He came home and hooked it all up.
It does not self-ignite and I was not at all used to that, so Edward started the oven for me that first night to bake the cake. He made lighting the oven look like a piece of cake!
The matches that we had were incredibly cheap. They would usually snap in half almost immediately or they wouldn't light. I would seriously have to go through about 20 matches or more sometimes to light the stove. The kids thought that I didn't know what I was doing, and wanted to show me and tell me how to do it, as if I hadn't played with plenty of matches as a kid, or been allowed to start our family campfires from a young age.
Two days later, I was preparing bread and cookies for the birthday dinner. It was the first time since being here that I had attempted to make them. This was all very exciting for us. These were all little steps towards us feeling established here. However, the cookies and bread would have to go in the oven, of course, and Edward was busy working. Not wanting to disturb him, one of the older kids was pretty confident that he could start the oven.
It's missing a couple of knobs. The knob for the oven is one of those, making it difficult to turn on. You have to push in on the metal post sticking out for the knob and turn it with your fingers. What we didn't realize was that there is a place for gas to come out of the top of the oven to broil.
Being a bit afraid to start it myself, I let my eager volunteer attempt it. While he was lighting it, I had my back turned and was at the sink busy doing something. All of a sudden, I heard an explosion. I startle and scream easily, and this circumstance was no exception. Everyone was okay. My son's arm hair and eyebrows had gotten burned off in some places, but that was it. Apparently too much gas had been released inside the oven, probably due to the length of time that it took to start it without a knob and with the cheap matches. It also blew the cover off of the ignition area.
I asked Edward to come in and start it for us. He did it with no problem. I planned to keep it going for our batches of cookies and bread, but for some reason which I can't remember, it had to be lit again that afternoon.
Not wanting to endanger my children or bother Edward again, I decided that I had better start the oven this time. We had discussed earlier that maybe lighting the tip of a rolled up piece of paper would be helpful to start the oven. I tried it out. It made it easier to not have to stick my hand so close to the gas, being so nervous. I tucked my hair into the back of my shirt, told all of the kids hovering around me and the oven to get back, and I put the lit piece of paper over the spot.
Another loud explosion occurred, but this time I was the one in front of the oven, feeling the burst of hot air coming over me. Not knowing quite what had happened and what might happen in the next moment if the oven still had gas being released into it, I screamed, dropped the burning piece of paper onto the tile floor, and hurled myself back about four feet until my back was stopped by the kitchen wall. That hurt! We turned the oven off, put the flame out of the burning paper, and asked Edward once again to start it for us.
I was quite shaken up from the experience. Some of the hair around my face, eyebrows, and arms were burned a little. I felt bruises on my back and hip for a couple of weeks. I was determined to finish out the baking that afternoon and to never use it again, but buy a different one. However, the next week, when I was at Jumbo for the first time (mentioned in our post, "Run-In with a Horse"), one of the only things that I bought was a long tipped lighter. It was a wonderful investment of 200 leke. It has made using the stove and oven a piece of cake!
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To listen to different thoughts from Edward:
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God bless you!
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