Rest in Pieces

"BANG!" and there I am up like a shot in what I think is the dead of night. I swore I heard a very loud bang ... maybe a gunshot! ... hmmm, Mister K and Little D are still fast asleep. I check the clock and it's only 11:30pm. I must have dozed off and been dreaming. Since I'm up anyway, I cautiously make my way downstairs to check email and maybe do a little sewing.


"Drip. Drip. Drip" Hmmm, perhaps the tap hasn't been shut properly. Nope, the noise is coming from in the kitchen... WHAT THE?!?!? I takes a few minutes for the whole scene to sink in. Everything is wet. There is broken stuff all over the floor. I have no idea what has happened and then I see the cause of the "bang".

This was a two litre pop bottle.
It was filled with grape juice.
It exploded.


There was juice on the ceiling, behind the fridge, all over the walls, pretty much all over everything. One of my hand potted spell bottles broke in two pieces. My skeleton snowglobe was smashed. Worst of all my favourite witch went from this... (that's her on the left)





To this ...

I'm very sad about my smashed witch. Mister K brought her home from a trip to the dump and I had spent an hour cleaning her up. Poor thing. To be saved from the dump just to end up like this.

I had bought a brand new witch today. She was pretty much untouched except for a chip out of her kerchief. She didn't cost very much and I'm not completely emotionally attached to her (yet) so a wee mar doesn't bother me. I'm mighty sad about the other gal though.

Now, I am really happy about two things.

#1 that my kiddo wasn't in the kitchen when the bottle blew up. I'm happy none of us were. We are a family that eats around the dinner table every night (except pizza night) so if this had happened just a few hours earlier someone could have easily been hurt and I thank the Goddess and Gods that they protected us from that nightmare. I keep thinking to myself "What would have happened if the wee fella was standing beside that when it blew?" We are so fortunate!

#2 I'm pleased that Mister K had to wash the walls. I know that sounds terrible but sometimes I think that he forgets that someone has to do stuff like that or that you can't ignore 'chores' Now he'll be forced to remember that someone does indeed wash those walls and that floor, and that a bottle of fermenting grape juice does not like to be ignored.

My heart is still in my throat from all the 'excitement' but I think I may try to hit the hay and dream of better things than broken old witches.