Tonight, I heated up a cold Cornish pastie I bought from a garage (gas station) by placing it on top of the electric kettle in my room, letting the rising steam do the job.
It worked quite well.
No challenge is beyond me.
In honour of this somewhat momentous event, I have officially named this place "The Inn of Infinite Ingenuity", or the I3 for short.
The Inn of Infinite Sadness, or alternatively, Smudge and Hobbes' Traumatising Transcendental Transatlantic Trip. Being the adventures of two very large, unwillingly peripatetic, half-Bengal cats and their owner (of rather similar description) as they prepare to leave the North American continent in search of a new life in their (the cats, not the owner) ancestral homeland of Aneda. Sigh, what I won't do for a decent cup of tea.
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