Pride before a fall
Today, I learned that pride comes before a fall, as well as after. I loaded the bread machine, and three hours later unloaded a small “stone”. What I believed to be foolproof, isn’t. The water might have been a touch too warm, given that I measure the temperature by touch. In any case, nothing you’d want to add to a triumphant table. Worse, I followed another axiom; something to do with getting back on the “horse” right away. Loaded the pan, with slightly cooler water… and the machine wouldn’t start. Deep in the instruction manual, a key phrase about allowing things to cool down caught my eye. I did a hand stir of the loaded ingredients, and then waited impatiently for the thermal interlock to side with me. For the record, my second load turned out “just fine”; fresh bread is a tasty meal, especially with a glass of cold milk.
My work around the tub perimeter is halfway to done. With a mix of a small knife, the nifty tool I purchased last evening, my new heat gun, a variety of gestures (that proved this will not be my next profession) and sufficient coffee, I removed the old silicone. Son #3 removed even more, on his tour.
Tomorrow, after resetting all the clocks around the place, we’re supposed to “mask” the job. My last effort was artistic AND rustic in appearance, apparently. This time, we’re going for something more professional; no, there will not be a series of photos. I just want to get this done and move on to something better (like moving).
