In Prince Edward Island this summer, I bought a new stove. It is one that has a ceramic top, all black and shiny.

The old stove went into the old farm house, only about 25 feet away. My clever daughter, when the electricians were rewiring it about ten years ago, asked for an electric stove outlet. So the stove delivery guys simply took it, carried it over and plugged it in.

Voila! It changed our summer. Instead of having a half dozen people milling around our kitchen (which means our dining area and living ditto), they are all over at the Old House, cooking in the big, farmhouse kitchen.

That’s better. I think.  But now that they are all gone, I missed them.