Today is my little Bee's birthday. I had a birthday related post to work on last night. Instead, I spent three hours cleaning up this mess. Three hours. If I was going to clean for three hours, the bathrooms might have benefited from some attention.
Before the crash and my scream: This picture is last week, before this weekends two additional batches of jam. (You see where this is going, huh?)
After the crash and my scream.
Thankfully I was the only one in the kitchen when it happened. There was a bit of yelling, some crying and a bit of swearing.
I can't even describe the mess, the glass, the stickiness, the tears. The shelf took out everything in it's way so I also lost a large fiesta-ware pitcher and a completed etsy order. The glass went around both corners and down the hall. Blueberry jam was down the walls and under and in every spot available.
Jam. Chicken broth. Corn. Pickles. Spaghetti sauce. Jelly. More jam. Turkey broth. Sticky peaches. Relish.
After two hours of cleaning, Hubby excused himself to finish up his work downstairs and I heard a word come from him that I haven't heard in years. The ceiling was leaking chicken broth. The floor, the kids work table, the chairs.... all sticky with peach juice and chicken broth. I may or may not have repeated the word.
All of this cleaning happened with a swollen hand. I was stung by a bee about two hours prior. I was stung in the finger and I could hardly move my finger. My entire hand was swollen tightly. Every move made it ache. I was singing in my head that song Have a Bad Day the whole time.