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I grew up with a septic tank and that meant no garbage disposal. I never knew what I was missing until my Aunt Sissey came to visit once. She was peeling potatoes into the sink, something we did into the garbage, and when she was finished she turned the water onto the tator peelings and turned on the light switch for the light over the sink. She had confused look on her face and so did I. She thought the light switch was the garbage disposal switch and then had to clean all the peelings out of the sink. I thought she was crazy, well, not really but I had no idea what she was up to.

I have a garbage disposal now and I love it. Love it love it. All that extra stuff on the plate just gets washed down the drain with no worries. I don't even really think about it until I go home to my parent's house and then not use a disposal. It is truly a marvelous invention.

I had an all day sewing/quilting get together at my house on Thursday for Enrichment and for the occasion I made some very fattening popcorn. Friday morning when I was cleaning up the kitchen and doing a few dishes I heard the horrible sound the disposal makes when there is something in there that really shouldn't be in there. I knew it was either my little teaspoon measuring spoon or a few popcorn kernels that never popped. I also knew that I really HATE it when something is in there. So I immediately ditched the kitchen and called my sister. I asked her if she could come up and get something out of my garbage disposal. It was a mean thing to to, because you see, Tori FEARS the disposal. She has it in her sweet little head that if she sticks her hand down there to fish something out, the switch will spontaneously turn on and chew her hand right off.

Now me on the other hand, I don't want to stick my hand down there purely for sanitary reasons. Don't get me wrong, I clean that nasty little food trap out. I run water and let that baby run for awhile and I even get those little packets that you shove down there, turn on the water, watch the fizz come up and go back down and WA LA - clean disposal. I still don't believe it is truly clean though. How could it be with all the mulch that goes down there? I must admit though that there is a corner of my brain that is worried about a ghost in my house that MAY flip that switch while my hand is in there. Oh, just the thought of it all makes me stomach roll over and over.

So anyway, here is the conversation with my sister the other day, or at least something like it anyway.
me - so there is something caught in my disposal, could you please come up and get it out for me (HEE HEE HEE)
her - no way! do you want me to lose a limb? how do you know that there is something actually in there?
me - it is making that awful sound of something hard trying to be chewed up
her - just put on your big girl panties, get a flashlight, and your leathergirl (leatherman), and dig whatever is in there out, but don't loose any appendages when it turns on by itself
me - sick no, do you know what is probably growing in there? one celled organisms and all the food slime from last Thanksgiving
her - well then, just look and see what is in there and if you need to dig it out
me - gross, that means I still have to touch the rubber flaps that are probably harboring some microscopic parasite, but that does give me an idea - I should use my headlamp!
her - yeah, headlamp is good and those rubber flaps are no big deal, just push them out of the way with something
me - (as the visual of my mission comes into my head) Yeah, I can use the headlamp, get 2 wooden spoons to push open the flaps and then get one of Matt's breeding sleeves from the basement (he uses them for preg checking cows) that goes all the way up to the shoulder to keep my hand from decaying off after I have to stick it in the sludge invested hole
her - yeah, take a picture for me
me - thanks for the help and I will be sure to email that picture to you
her - bye
me - bye

So then I went to the coat closet for the headlamp (where else would someone keep one of those?), to the basement for a bright pink/red breeding sleeve (a normal latex glove would not due because it would allow my wrist to possibly become exposed to the flesh eating microscopic folks nesting in my disposal), and then to the kitchen for the wooden spoons and the area under question. It took a little rearranging of the headlamp, but it worked like a charm, of course after the 2 wooden spoons opened the rubber flaps for me to see into the abyss. You know what I found? A relatively clean (to the naked eye) holding spot with 2 little popcorn kernels that were scared to death of their surroundings, just wishing they could keep passing on through. So I gave them a little push with a spoon, turned on the water, and away they went. Problem solved. No appendages lost. No nasty disease transmitted (yet). No picture taken. Thank goodness.