The stove in this room reminded me of an old iron cookstove my Dad had restored. He came into possession of it when his great Aunt Lorie died.
He had nowhere to keep it, so it landed in my basement for several years. After my Dad passed away, one of my relatives, who was raised
by Aunt Lorie, asked for it. She would take good care of it, and so I was glad to turn it over to her. My Dad remembered sleeping between
it and the wall on cold winter nights, when he was a young boy visiting his aunt and cousins. It would have pleased him to know one of them has it now.
I used a kit to make the wooden case. I stained and finished it, and used the drawer to store all the wiring for the overhead light and the
fire light in the oven.