Day 349 - A Tale of Two Jugs

solid

I had to ask The Boy Wonder to save you from what would otherwise be an exceptionally dull photo of these two jugs...you're welcome!

As it's Friday night, and therefore both you and I are low on interest, being rather more keen to get our collective freedy neet's on, I'm going to simply tell you a little story...

A tale of two jugs... 

For years, I would enhance Jazz and Bluez' kibble (dried dog food) with a thin marmite soup, which I would make by melting a little marmite in boiling water, then cooling a little before pouring it over their dinner. 

I always made it in the same Pyrex jug, which was never used for anything else, and was kept by the sink, rather than in a cupboard.

Anna and I are partial to scrambled eggs now and then, but preparing them in a plastic jug was frustrating and liable to end up with sticky egg all over the kitchen...so Anna bought a second Pyrex jug, identical in every way except for the surface scratches from years of stirring marmite soup in it, with a steel fork. 

This new jug was kept in the cupboard by the cooker, and that, combined with the age-worn look of the older one meant that there was no chance of confusion.

Indeed for a few years this system ran smoothly and surely, with never a hint of confusion and no problems whatsoever...

Even after The Legend JazzyB died, we left it in the same place, not wanting to do anything that signified acceptance of his passing...his food bowl, his collar and lead, even his old slippers still linger around the house to this day.  

I suppose I don't want all those little signs of him not to be here any more.  

The Treacle Spongebob even found an old bone of The Bloozer's, stashed under the storage heater, which (true to his ancestral breeds) he happily retrieved, and has had a good gnaw on several times since.

So all was well and good...until we went to Fontainebleau in September this year.

We left the house and cats in charge of house/cat-sitters, giving nary a thought to the possible fate of these two poor jugs.

Upon returning home, weary from our climbing adventures and a long car journey, something seemed wrong, out of place...but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Some days later, when scrambled eggs were on the menu, I found the jugs huddled together, cowering shamefully in the bottom of the cupboard, inextricably entwined...

And I really mean inextricably.

Having tried hot water, oil, hot and cold water, and of course a liberal dose of brute force, they really are not letting go of each other.

For a few months since, I've adopted a strategy of really hoping that they'll somehow come unstuck...but for reasons unknown this seems to be a completely ineffective strategy, making no measurable difference whatsoever.

Poor jugs, I fear they are doomed to the recycle bin and whatever horrors await them during the recycling process.

:-/