Doo Doo and Dorodango

I don't really have anything KNITTING to report, although there are a few half-done and half started projects floating around the house. I read a post at My Little Mochi about dorodangos, a children's craft in Japan, and decided it would be a fun thing to do with the kiddos. While all of them made one and had a lot of fun, they lost interest after the first couple of dirt rubbings and abandoned them to go play on the swing set. I finished mine, but didn't do as many layers of fine dirt as suggested before buffing, and got a few cracks after it had completely dried. This was made with plain old Alaska dirt, scooped up from underneath the swing set. I have seen some really cool ones made from various "special" kinds of dirt, but am pretty happy with my little brown dorodango.



(This picture was taken at 11pm, Whoo Hoo for Alaska summers!)


The Plumber came home this weekend, and we have been tackling various home improvement projects, though it seems we are creating more than we are finishing. A quick trip to Home Depot for a new toilet seat turned into this



We didn't plan on remodeling this bathroom before selling the house, but were just going to paint it. After that little jaunt to the home improvement store, we are putting in a new floor, a new vanity, new faucet,new floor trim, AND a new toilet seat. We got started at 11pm doing the demo work, and finished at 12:30. Somehow we have to get all of this done before The Plumber leaves on Monday. With a Memorial Day barbeque and a trip to gather mushrooms an hour and half away thrown into the mix. (Anyone want to guess who will be finishing this project later this week?) Right as we were finishing and cleaning up tonight, The Plumber dropped a wrench. Down the toilet drain. He got ticked, threw a few things, said a few choice words, and stomped off to find a flashlight. I stood staring down the hole, wondering how the heck we were going to get it out. It wasn't even visible.
I went and grabbed a knitting needle and poked around, but couldn't even feel it down there.
I made a ball of tape, stuck it on the end of the knitting needle, and poked around, trying to drag it closer to the opening. Still couldn't even feel it.
I grabbed a stitch holder, bent it into a U shape, and taped it to the end of the knitting needle, trying to scoop it out. STILL can't even feel it, it's so far down there.
As I stopped to think, I listened to The Plumber banging around downstairs, looking for a flashlight that one of the kids probably stashed somewhere, never to be found again. I looked at The Hole, and realized that if we couldn't get it out, we would have to rip into the floor and possible the downstairs wall, making a small weekend project into a HUGE nightmare.
The Hole stared at me, taunting me. I looked at it's diameter, thought about the size of The Plumber's man hands, and then looked at my girly ones.
If we had any hope of getting this wrench out, it was going to be up to me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and SHOVED MY HAND INTO THE TOILET DRAIN.
I felt nothing.

I shoved deeper, gagging and holding my breath. By now I was up to my elbow in the drain,and realized that this was going to be an extremely embarassing 911 call if I got stuck there. I felt lots of goo on the way down, and tried to think about it that way.

"It's GOO. Just GOO. Poop? NO! Don't think about it! Goo! It's just generic run of the mill Goo!"

As my arm reached the limits of how far it would go down The Hole, I felt it. My fingertips touched gooey metal. But I couldn't grab it, and I was afraid of pushing it down farther. I extracted myself from The Hole, and grabbed the stitch holder, holding it in my hand as I went in for a second try. I reached the wrench, slipped the stitch holder forward, and pulled back.
Clink!
I reached in again, and there it was. I pulled the disgusting GOO covered wrench out of the hole, stared at it for a second and then flung it into the trashcan.
And then I started screaming.

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have washed my hands 10 times, and I still feel dirty. And not just germy dirty, but the violated kind of dirty. As if someone just walked up to me and grabbed my boob or something. Putting your hand down the toilet drain just seems so gross and WRONG.

On the plus side, I have earned some MAJOR respect from The Plumber. Even plumbers gag at the thought of putting their hands down THE HOLE.