It's seven o'clock in the evening. I'm boiling down some beef bones to get the bone for musical instrument parts. At 9 0'clock I'll change the water and repeat the process. In the meantime I'll go down to my workshop and tinker for a bit.
It's now 11:30 and my better half asks when I'm going to be finished using her good pot.
OH HOT D$%^M !!!
I forgot all about the stuff on the stove. [Call it a seniors moment]
I race upstairs to find the pot dry, the bones black and the air thick and smoky, and sticky. There's grease spattered all over everything in sight. So I toss the pot and bones out into the garbage. There's no sense trying to clean that mess and I guess I owe someone a new pot.
I get out the mop and pail and start cleaning the walls, stove and floor. As I reach across the stove I upset her big salt shaker and the bottom falls off spilling about half a pound of salt into the sticky mess.
To shorten the tail, NOBODDY is speaking to me. It,s twelve thirty, the dog wants to go out before bedtime but won't come up the stairs because of the smell and I still don't have any material for nuts and bridges. Gues I'll sleep with the dog tonight if she's not too mad at me too.
IF there's a next time I'm ordered to use my old back packing stuff and do the job outside.
Guess I deserved that.