This is not my mixer.
It is my mixer’s younger prettier cousin.
My KitchenAid mixer is almost as old as my daughter. Not.that.she.is.old, but you know what I’m saying.
My KitchenAid mixer has mixed up hundreds of cakes, pies, cookies, dog biscuits, bowls of whipped cream, mashed potatoes. In short it has taken a lickin’ and kept on tickin’.
This was some of the best $ I ever spent. The only thing I have ever had to do to it was replace the whisk beater after I mistakenly let it eat a wooden spoon.
My fervent prayer is that my lovely old white KitchenAid with the chipped paint keeps on mixing things up in my kitchen for a long long time. I’m not sure I could replace it either financially or in my affections.
