Thanks, Me, for my KitchenAid Mixer

img_6876I recently posted a tweet of appreciation on my Twitter feed for my KitchenAid Mixer.

Thanks, 24-year-old Me for the KitchenAid Mixer; your best impulse buy ever. The clothes and “classic” car? Long gone. But this is a keeper.

I can remember buying the shiny blue KitchenAid Mixer 20-plus years ago at Macy’s in Colonie Center, which is near Albany. (This is also the mall where I got my head stuck between the rails while watching a dolphin show from above when I was a large-headed toddler – but that is another story that involves my embarrassed older sister leaving me there screaming….) It came with all sorts of accessories (sadly, not the ice cream or pasta maker) and until recently its primary use in my kitchen was whipping cream. Miraculously, I found the dough hook in a box in my basement – never unpacked since I moved to Maine in 1993. Now, I wonder if the Learning to Bake project would ever have happened without the mixer. Doubt it.

I made some good choices at 24, probably some bad ones, too. There are all kinds of things I’d tell my young self if given the chance – things way more important than “buy that mixer!” But I’m glad to thank myself here.

(PS: My head is still big. Only a problem when it comes to buying one-size-fits-all hats. Good thing I knit!)

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3 responses to “Thanks, Me, for my KitchenAid Mixer

  1. Elizabeth, I’ve just discovered your blog and am absolutely cracking up. You’re a wonderful writer. I’ve always wanted to visit Maine but that 5 degree comment on another post has me re-thinking that a bit.

    Thanks for letting me watch as you learn – great mascot – it looks like many things that have come from kitchen.

  2. Elizabeth Edwardsen

    Welcome, Barb! Do visit Maine – just wait until summer. It is so icy today we were taking our lives in our hands just walking to the car to get to school. I think the bitter cold winters make me appreciate the lovely summers all the more.

  3. This is from Elizabeth’s sister re Colonie Center: Our mother was there. A maintenance worker had to come with something to stretch the bars. It took forever and was totally humiliating. And, I was not allowed to leave the scene, so throughout the very long process, I had to pretend to examine the window opposite.

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