Saturday morning provided me with irrefutable proof. Task One for the day was to can the year's supply of chili sauce. This involves blanching, peeling and chopping almost a half bushel of tomatoes. Chopping celery, peppers and onions. Placing it all in a large pot, adding vinegar and spices and letting it cook until thickened. About 3 hours.
Task Two was Focaccia Bread. We had been invited to a pot luck 'Italian Dinner' for Saturday night and I had decided to take home made Focaccia Bread along with an antipasto platter.
The Focaccia bread recipe called for sea salt. While at the marked last week, stocking up on all my canning veggies, I had purchased a bag of Sea Salt from the Watkins dealer. On Saturday morning, after a couple of hours of work, Task One was bubbling on the stove. Task Two had just been mixed - flour, oil, yeast AND sea salt - and set aside to rise when Fred came into the kitchen to change a light bulb.
Trying to keep out of the way while Fred worked, I stepped aside and for no reason except good fortune, picked up the bag of sea salt. There I saw the word 'Directions'.
"Why the heck would there be directions on a bag of salt?" I asked myself.
The directions read "Mix with water."
"Why the heck would one need to mix the salt with water?" I asked myself.
I turned the bag over and in fancy script it read
Obviously I missed the part about the bath. I squealed, grabbed the rising dough and the bag of bath salts and threw them both in the garbage.
Task Two, take two. Plain salt will do.
I could just see the kids. After the funeral. Bewildered, puzzled, shaking their heads. "Mixed up bath salts with regular salt?"