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More contributions to the Canadian economy this week.

First, my frustration with two appliances in my house reached breaking point about mid-week. These are two items that you don't really notice until they don't work properly. I've had my rather stylish Sony clock radio for years, maybe as long as 10 years. It was subtle, grey, mimicked the design of the Bose radios but at a fraction of the cost. I mastered the overly complex task of setting time and alarm. I only used the CD function maybe once or twice in its lifetime. Let's face it – waking up in the morning is a routine and CBC One's Metro Morning, as much as Andy Barrie makes me grit my teeth, is mine. I guess it takes an officious, dull, insensitive oaf to get my ass out of bed in the morning.

In any case, my beloved Sony started making a faint electronic buzzing sound, 24/7, several months ago. It sat on my night stand along with a lamp and a phone. I would inspect each of these in turn, regularly, to puzzle out where the buzzing was coming from. It was definitely coming from the radio and I couldn't figure out how to make it stop. Furthermore, the thin wire that comprised the aerial was making me crazy, as was the FM signal drift. CBC is famous for many things, one of which is not always having the most reliable signal even if you are living mere blocks from CBC HQ. I guess the cutbacks have meant that they are using a cheaper brand of tin foil to repair the broadcast antenna. The signal is fine one day and then it gets all fuzzy the next, often depending on where I am standing in the room. Annoying and getting progressively worse. Finally, I realized that as much as I don't want a neon display of the time glowing at me all night, I really need something more than black LED on a beige background. This is especially true at 3:26 a.m.

My second appliance failure was, sadly, the toaster oven given to me by wizzy and her partner as a condo-warming giftie. (No, I did not "earn" it with lezzie points.) The much-storied toaster oven simply stopped toasting several weeks ago. I'm on this low carb eating thing so I can't really pinpoint when the lack of toastability began. It would heat bread to a nice warm temp, but no actual "toasting" occurred. The state of affairs became really apparent when I set the toaster oven to cook a frozen President's Choice Blue Menu Chicken Breast Stuffed with Ricotta and Spinach. Most toaster ovens can knock this out of the park, no problem. Mine barely thawed the thing, even when given twice the allotted time to complete the task. Something had to be done.

Besides the fact that I don't like tossing out a gift, I also don't like tossing out something like a toaster oven. Shouldn't this be repairable? I'm sure that all is wrong is that an element has died. Yes, of course it should be repairable. If I were a skilled small appliance repair person – if such people still even exist – I'd happily order the parts and do it myself. I'm not eating that much toast these days anyway. But I am not such a skilled person. The best I can manage is speaking sternly to the toaster oven and telling it to shape up. That didn't seem to work.

I feel very conscious of throwing these kinds of items out into landfill but, happily, our building has developed its own peculiar internal recycling program:

1. Place used item prominently in garbage room.
2. Check often to see if it is still there.
3. If it is still there in three days, no one wants it. Next, try FreeCycle.

Happily, it would appear that both the toaster oven and the old Sony have found new homes, and new life, with people in the 'hood. Perhaps with people who possess repair skills beyond finger-wagging.

Thus, on Wednesday, I did some research online before shopping, and then arrived home with a new toaster oven (Bravetti, on sale @ Canadian Tire for $39.99) and an RCA Clock Radio. I don't know why you can't buy a clock radio without a CD player anymore. Although I am a creature of repetition, why would I want to wake up to the same song or same artist every day?

This reminds me of Bob Seger. In 1971, he released the album Brand New Morning and the first track is the title track. This is an acoustic album unlike anything he did before then or has done since. My brothers bought this record and rejected it out of hand for not having any fuzz or feedback. I was eight years old when it was released and I loved it. Years later, when I was a teenager performing with a touring children's theatre troupe, the manager/director of the troupe asked me to put together a tape of music we could all listen to each morning as she led us through our warm-up routine – part yoga, part meditation, part breathing, etc. We needed about 20 minutes of music and I led off the tape with Brand New Morning. The troupe loved it – for about the first four mornings. After then, they all started to resent Bob and his cheery, hopeful thoughts about this new morning as he strummed on his guitar. I hated to admit that I also tired of hearing the same music each time we started stretching. So I'm pretty sure that waking up to the same thing every morning would not work for me.

But, as usual, I digress. My new toaster oven totally rocked the PC Chicken lump test and does a nice even toast on Weight Watchers Whole Wheat English Muffins. The new clock radio is smaller, way easier to set, picks up and holds the required CBC signal, and lets you select what colour and how bright you want the display to be. Not surprisingly, I picked green. I am now bathed in faint green LED light when I sleep. Cool.

(I just want to say that I was over at wizzy & co.'s pad a few weeks ago and they still lead the pack in the chic and cosmopolitan toaster oven category. I have no idea what the specs are on that thing but who needs a new car when it looks like you should be able to just get in your toaster oven and drive it around town. That's all I'm sayin' …)

Yesterday was a red letter day for me. I went here and got properly fitted for bras. Clearly, I have been misguided for most of my 44 years (well, about 31 bra-wearing years) regarding this foundation garment. The fitting process took about an hour and 20 minutes and I'm sure I tried on at least 20 bras in the process. Apparently, this is normal. A very sweet young thing was helping me out which certainly helped the time pass smoothly. Let's just say that all my old bras are gone (really gone – you can't re-use a bra – yuck!) and have been replaced by the new girls. I am a new woman … my only concern is that as I continue to drop poundage, these bras will also need replacing, likely in about six months. Expensive, but worth it. Secrets From Your Sister is a funky, politically attuned store with staff trained in the dual arts of bra-fitting and helping people feel at ease about bra-fitting. I highly recommend a visit there to anyone who needs to lift and separate.

Hm, come to think of it, wearing a new bra really makes me want to sing Brand New Morning … maybe I'll go against type and name one of them Bob.

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