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Rebecca Holden's avatar

This beautiful poem has brought back so many happy memories of the Aga I grew up with - and its replacement - and the Rayburn I had later in my own home. Oil-fired, all of them, no riddling required. The Aga only cooked (oh, and warmed-up newborn lambs in its bottom oven if it was a particularly cold spring), but my Rayburn was responsible for three jobs: cooking, heating and hot water. I miss that style of cooking now that I've moved places! Great post - thank you, Tamsin. x

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Tamsin's avatar

Oh the joys of oil fired rather than coal/coke. We had one a couple of years ago did the cooking, the heating and the water but unless you cooked on it (we also had an induction hob) it didn’t get warm, I was so disappointed when I realised that. No more cradling the rail.

And thank you for reading my musings. 😊

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

I ended up buying an electric egg cooker to make my breakfast - for decades I'd been used to the Aga ALWAYS being hot - but like you I was disappointed that my Rayburn would only get hot if and when I told it to! Before I bought the egg boiler I'd have the timer set for the Rayburn to come on first thing in the morning - but soon worked out what a waste of oil it was *just* to boil two eggs! 🤣

Plus, yup, nowhere warm to rest my bottom. Pointless, right?! 😊

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Tamsin's avatar

Right! What even is the point of an Aga, a Stanley, a Rayburn if it’s not always warm? What do the dogs rest in front of? Where is the hub?

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

EXACTLY!

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Kathryn Anna Marshall's avatar

I like this a lot Tamsin - I think the metaphor works really well..it's a soothing poem I think - nice pace .

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Tamsin's avatar

Thank you - if you’d ever told 16 year old me who rested on that cooker and coped with the rattling pipes she’d write a poem about it some day she would have laughed hysterically at you and called you mad.

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