Our new house is rather old. Instead of a new fangled breaker box, we have a quaint and old-fashioned fuse box. We bought a set of three-pronged adapters for those appliances that have a ground plug, because all of our outlets only have two slots.
None of this helps with our clothes dryer however. It demands the rare gargantuan breed of outlet known as the 220 outlet. For those of you haven't watched a home improvement channel lately, the 220 outlet is the big one that seems to be the boss of all the little outlets. It is the outlet chieftain of the electrical tribe. It is the 110 outlet on steroids. Our house did not have the Schwarzenegger of outlets - until today!
Like a good hunter-gatherer I went on a quest for fire for my family. I would bring them the strange energy so that we may enjoy the blessings of warm fluffy towels. With the help of my reliable wise man (my father-in-law), I braved the perils of jagged steel, high temperatures, and voltage to bring my family fire! Behold what I have wrought! Now dear family I give you the gift of 220 voltage - or maybe it is 240, I really don't understand.
Today I am Prometheus. Pray I do not become too prideful because I don't want to end up chained to a rock with birds pecking on my liver.