We had a water incident in the kitchen recently. A large amount of smelly brown water was discovered in the bottom of the cabinet under the sink. Turns out that the sink basket, the part on the underside that holds the strainer, was rotted away.
Sami said it was rusted away but my opinion is that it was chemically eroded. And the chemical was hot coffee.
We have issues around here with residual dish detergent due to inadequate rinsing. Without mentioning any names, one of us in this marriage insists that hand washing is more effective and results in a cleaner dish than using the dishwasher. That’s all well and good, but using a vast amount of liquid detergent to work up a good soapy sponge also calls for a thorough rinse, and that’s where it all falls apart.
How many mornings did I pour out the first cup into my 32 oz. Turkey Hill insulated cup and be met with a layer of soap bubbles? Very many. And it’s not those coffee brewing bubbles, either. It’s genuine soap that smells all perfumey. So I dump it out and pour out more from the pot.
I realized long ago that if I pour the soapy coffee onto the bottom of the stainless steel sink, it makes it look dirty and has to be cleaned away. There’s only so much wastefulness a person can tolerate before 7am, so to avoid running even more water down the drain, I took to moving aside the strainer basket and pouring the coffee directly down the chute.
So I’m pretty sure – based on my long-time experience of working in dialysis units and rotting out plenty of pipes there by pouring 1:10 dilutions of bleach water into the sinks without rinsing it away – that this is what caused the problem in my own kitchen. Coffee is fairly acidic, is it not? It just takes a longer to wear through metal than bleach does.
I suppose a prudent person would avoid this whole soap bubble/ coffee down the drain thing by careful rinsing of the dishes in the first place, but that’s not how we roll around here.
[footnote: And now that I think about it, how safe am I from the perils of drinking soap bubbles in restaurant cappuccino? Friends and acquaintances accept my idiosyncrasy of refusing to drink out of restaurant coffee cups if they are not white. How do I know that the cappuccino cups - white or not - have been thoroughly rinsed under all that milk foam? Now it occurs to me that I have had perfumy cappuccino here and there. This line of thinking needs further development.]
I can’t remember when was the last time I heard someone one use the term daresn’t.
I find the the way that the media has abandoned distinguished Former President William Jefferson Clinton highly amusing. For whatever reason, the curtain has been pulled aside and he’s revealed to be a real creep*.
The news outlets now feature daily reports questioning what’s wrong with him lately – the popular consensus seems to be either early Alzheimer’s or an advanced STD, with a minority opinion of post-cardiac surgical complications. The news items report his missteps, chronicle his outright lies, repeat unflattering things we may have missed on the nightly newscasts, speculate that he is purposely sabotaging HRC’s campaign and take particular glee in identifying his purple-faced fits of anger.
Was he always this way but protected by the media? Or is this new behavior that even reports and editors find uncouth? either way, it’s a win for all of us – truth and confusion for the disappointed faithful and entertainment for the rest of us.
Here we see Ole Bill in Philadelphia, silently reflecting as Hillary takes the stage. There must be an obvious caption for this photo- darned if I can think of what it is.
*In fact, wasn’t that Monica’s name for him after he abandoned her – "the big creep"?
We’re setting up the deck now in anticipation of a long and pleasant summer.
Because the deck is on the south side of the house, the sun can be blistering, making the deck usable only in early morning or evening. The trees are too far away to cast any helpful shade so every year we set up a gazebo over the table. We make it even lovelier by adding strings of white mini lights around the inside perimeter of the top. The best year was when our daughter jammed a tangled string of lights into a cheap plastic spinner and hung it like a chandelier. Why did I throw that out at the end of the season?
After a series of online conversations that started with mini-lights in glass mayonnaise jars to chandeliers made from plastic milk jugs, Dave and I came to the conclusion that 2-Liter green plastic soda bottles filled with mini lights would be just the thing. That would be summery and festive. Now, there are two options I’m considering:
Option #1 – Four Corners The gazebo has a small triangular shelf built into each corner post. Each corner could have a single 2-Liter bottle filled with lights. I’d connect three sets of 100 white mini-lights, and run them around the perimeter or the top, but at each corner, have the lights run down to the bottle, tangle around inside the bottle and then run back out and up to continue the line of lights around the top.
Option #2 – Chandelier Three 2-Liter bottles suspended over the table, filled with a tangle of lights. Now the bottles have to be suspended from something – I was thinking an attractive tree branch. There could possibly be some wrapping of the lights around the branch.
So now this is the reader participation part:
- Is this a good idea or a dopey idea?
- Corner or chandelier?
- Tree branch or other object to hang from?
Things to know:
- I’m not interested in fancy designs made from plastic jugs.
- I’m not doing this for recycling purposes.
- I’m not interested in welding or wiring anything.
I’m also considering using a birdcage without the bottom and stuffing the lights in there. All I need is a flea-market or garbage pile birdcage. I possess imagination and spray paint and that combination renders me undaunted by trash.
I’m trying to use blue as my blog color theme but it’s not working out.
I like the concept but not the reality.
1. I’m just not in the mood. The inescapable fact is that Hillary and the runaway beer truck* that she’s married to make me sick. I try not to dwell on it but there are times when it overwhelms me. Welcome to one of those times.
2. Everybody’s doing it now. You know, ** there was a time when I was a lone voice in the wilderness on this subject. Now, you see this kind of thing on everything from ho-hum mommy blogs to the mega political news sites. In fact, Lucianne.com has two features on it today:
First, her outfit selection as political message (negative points for wit but positive points for mentioning it at all.) Secondly, a more fascinating and far more sickening item about the Madonna bracelet. My dream of moving to Pennsylvania and living in the old house when we retire is not going to happen – Sami refuses because he thinks everyone there is stupid. His argument has some validity. Catholics for Hillary? We’ll all be doing penance for that.
Anyway, for the moment I’m not interested in making humorous comments about her. The same thing happened with The Soup. It’s been 7 years since I made my first blog post, and it was a different blogosphere back then. Now the food blogs are so deadly serious. All you need is a dozen eggs, a camera and the ability to compliment yourself – your mailbox will overflow with the opportunity to review vanity press cookbooks or to exchange links with some brand new food site. It’s very wearying.
* Distinguished Former President William Jefferson Clinton as described on Morning Joe today.
** Imitation of Hillary’s most prominent speech tic.
Right now I’m fretting about how much I have left to do on an urgent work project and trying to plan my ETA at the Thursday Night Martini Party so that I can get a good seat without appearing over-eager, so that leaves no time for blogging. I just want to stop by for a minute to tell you all that the black 60" wide TV stand we ordered for The Enormous TV was delivered yesterday and assembled and installed by others while I slept.When i went downstairs this morning and the two pieces were together, it looks like nothing less than a portal to the fourth dimension.If you don’t hear from me by the weekend, assume the worst.