The toilet knife

You know you live in the country when you have a butter knife dedicated solely for toilet use.  I used to use a screwdriver until Papa B asked me why there was a flat head screwdriver in the bathroom.  I was honest with him - I was using it to clean the toilet.  He looked at me with a combination of utter confusion and a little anger.

A few years ago, Papa B decided to turn off the water softener.  He got too cheap to pay for softener salt.  Since then, I have been fighting a battle with lime scale on my toilets.  I liken my toilet cleaning routine to going to the dentist.  You scrub the bowl once a week or so to get the crud off, and once a month you get out the toilet cleaner and use that.  But about every six months (maybe more, depending on whether or not the "If it's yellow" method backfires on you), I fire up the big guns.  Here's where the toilet knife comes into play.  I will put CLR in the bowl and leave it overnight.  Then next morning, before anyone has a chance to do their business, I will get in there with a brush, pumice, and my toilet knife.  First, I have to chip the lime off the bottom of the toilet, the 'exit' if you will.  This is like the dentist bit - cleaning off the tartar off the toilet with my trusty knife.  It comes off in flakes.  Then I move on to the pumice to get the ring of crud/lime/mystery substance off, and then I finish it off with the brush to get the rest of it.

Oh, the SPARKLE!!  The SHINE!!  The lovely sight of a lime-less toilet is really something to behold.

All thanks to my toilet knife.  I really have some cleaning issues to work though, don't I?

Like a controlled burn.

When I was in high school, I took a gourmet foods class.  By then I knew how to cook, and I could cook a decent meal.  I definitely learned some things, don't get me wrong.  But what the teacher said during one lesson was pretty interesting.  Cooking was nothing more than a controlled burning of your food.

I was reminded of this yesterday when we had a snow/ice day and I got the bug to bake something warm and comforting.  Girl C helped me make some milk chocolate chip cookies.  She was very helpful and interested until I have her the beater from my KitchenAid mixer and her attention was quickly turned to licking the cookie dough off the paddle (not that I blame her).  I decided to put the extra rack in my oven and bake 3 pans of cookies at once.  Papa B is astonishingly cheap (which is totally fodder for scads of posts for the future), so to avoid a lecture on running the full size oven for one tray of cookies, I tossed them all in at once. I set the three pans in the oven, set the time for 10 minutes and waited.  After the allotted time, I had a pan of well-done cookies, medium cookies, and rare cookies.  It just amused me that I had controlled the burn to make everyone happy.  Crispy ones, soft ones, and gooey ones.

Un-Profound Post of the Day (UPPOTD)

My farts have nowhere to go when I wear skinny jeans.  I wonder if that's how it is in a space suit?

I told you it was un-profound.