Dead wombat

Hey. You don't have to be a cook to be an advocate.

Dead wombat

It sits alone on the cement pavers. Smoldering still, filled with repugnant waters of char and death. It's lived a long life. It served well. It never faltered, waned or gave in to our demands. Until today.

It sits alone in the backyard a testament to fate itself and the distractions of a new sewing machine. My intent was benevolent. I only wanted to use it for an afternoon of pleasure with a beer whilst registering my new sewing machine. Yes, I've used it many times for this same 3ish pleasure of the day. Until today.

Oh fate of dyslexic brain and nimble fingers! Oh ye fickle fat finger of time setting. OH!! Fool that I am! Quickly I set the timer as I had so many times before and then, even quicker did I quickly step up the stairs to my studio to quickly grab the serial number off my sewing machine. I bet I beat the microwave I had thought to myself!

BAHAHAHAHA!! It is to laugh!! Damn you serial number panel hidden like the great gold of Egyptian kings! Damn you and the dark room you reside!

Basically I'm up there more like 5 minutes and the microwave was set for 34 minutes not 3 minutes and 40 seconds.

P.S. To my husband, the microwave is fine and freshly cleaned! All the windows are open right now cause burned popcorn smells like dead wombat.

I guess we should get that popcorn popper you were talking about, that looks really cool!

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