Call the Plumber

 

... a bee enjoys the dying bee balm ...

I was doing dishes, and the large Mason insert lid made an airlock between itself and the plug and I couldn’t get the water to drain. 

I tried to lift it with the tip of a knife. 

That didn’t work. I finished up my dishes on the other side of the sink, and hoped that Bonnie would wake up in time to plunge her hand into the other side of the sink before the water got cold and greasy. That didn’t happen.

I finished making apricot and white chocolate muffins (no apricot jam so I used raspberry; no white chocolate so I used chocolate chips). 

After our morning repast, where the muffin papers didn’t release all that well from the side of the muffins, we went after the sink. 

That would be Bonnie who went after the sink.

... new mullein grows under my deck ...
The internet claims both fresh and dried leaves
of this plant make good tea -- after straining.

First, she emptied out the water with a bowl, something I would have called the plumber to do. 

Then she got the last ¼ cup of dirty dishwater out with a sponge. 

She, too, went after the mason lid with a knife. 

She could see that wasn’t going to work. 

She said she could feel some wobbling of the lid, so there was hope. 

She looked for something thinner than the tip of the knife, and since she had been sewing last night what came to mind was a needle and thread. 

She found space for the needle to slide between the mason lid and the sink ring, but the needle didn’t have enough strength to break that seal. Next she took the needle, and threaded it through the gummy seal of the mason jar thread in the eye of the needle.

Out popped the lid.

As I said, I would have called the plumber, not the seamstress.

Arta