"T" Is for Toaster. And Toast.

I am not a pack rat. I am the opposite of a pack rat. I collect nothing. I don't feel an emotional attachment to most of my belongings*. If I haven't used something for a year (or oftentimes, just several months), I have no problem getting rid of it. In fact, I delight in it. When the world's got me down and I'm feeling blue or stressed, I find a closet or a cupboard to organize and it always soothes me to sort, organize, label, and get rid of unused items.

*There are a few exceptions to the rule:

1) my engagement and wedding rings
2) my iPhone and computer
3) Juan Carlos's blanket "Kiki" (I know this is strange, but it throws me into a an irrational tizzy if I think it's lost)
4) anything given to us as a wedding present (example: I still refuse to give away (or throw away, whose going to want it?) one very frayed towel)

We've had a sad loss in the family this week.

The toaster oven we received for our wedding almost 14 years ago from cousins in Iowa has stopped working. It has lived in 3 different states and 4 different countries with us. It has produced many perfectly toasted pieces of toast, some fine individual pizzas, crispy bagels, and so much more.

Here she (he?) is:

Look what the ocean air did to her (him?) in her (his?) final years of faithful service to the family:

It must have been a painful death.

May she (he?) rest in peace.

We must move on, and luckily, despite my strong desire to get rid of it, I held on to the toaster Guapo's company gave out to all the local employees here for Christmas last year (I'm sure it's just what everyone wanted):

Don't let the sleek stainless steel look fool you, this baby's made out of 100% cheap plastic. I amazed it doesn't melt as it toasts.

And here's the cheesiest part of this toasting bad boy:

A "T" for my husband's company.

I know you're all jealous.