I had a minor drop in mood before doing the pan, shed a few tears and then started the process of adding bottled lemon juice and baking soda to the pot.
I thought I would just let it sit there until tomorrow so I decided I had to at least have some sort of water contact so I did a foot soak. I ended up with a cut the other day that I hadn’t noticed so I added Oregano essential oil to the water. I pulled a bench seat up to me and ate a snack of apples and cashew butter. After the snack I put a little more oil on and put on my socks. I went in the kitchen, put a wooden spatula in the pot and the burnt offering came off leaving a nice little shine.
I tried not to think too much about anything but I was curious as to what emotions or memories would surface. I thought of my grandfather and his love of water but how he hated sprinklers and things like that.
I’ve been trying, for the life of me, to remember if my mother ever swam. I don’t recall her ever being in a pool but sometimes when we traveled we had a private whirlpool area and she got in with my sister and myself. I remember her telling me I couldn’t dunk under and stay. My sister and I never went in without alone, we were minors.
While cleaning the pot and drying everything I remember thinking to myself that water is dirty, all water is dirty. I looked up to my tanks and the water is clear. Is that dirty, too? No. I can manage that water for a while. Is it dirty because something about me makes it dirty? No. I don’t think so. Is it too hard, you know about microbes, stuff like that? No. It’s just dirty. My conclusion is that its being dirty has more to do with life with my uncle and aunt than anything else.
How appropriate to call these entries waterlogged. My water issues are saturated with fear, abuse and OCD. So, these are my water logs. It may seem like a small thing to wash a pan burned black on the bottom, but it wasn’t for me, not at all. I did it though. Now it’s time to log off. Last call for tea…. bagged tea!