The fat incident

You will exclaim “Oh Alana!” … and not in a good way … when I tell you this story.

Within hours of receiving the horrifying $2400 plumber’s bill for my leaking gas pipes last week my drains started doing this …

I was a bit emotionally numb by that point and dejectedly sent the above pic to DD. He was in a taxi headed to the airport in Taipei, following a speaking engagement at a conference.

He’d just sent me a much nicer picture – well, aside from the barbed wire – of the sunset …

Anyways, DD got off the plane on Friday morning and snuck into my house to try and sort out my drains while I was at a meeting. Bless him.

But my heart sank when I got a message mid-meeting that said: “So, how do you normally get rid of cooking fat and oil.”

It was one of those aha! moments when you suddenly have a blinding revelation about the error of your ways.

I don’t use much cooking oil, never deep fried anything in my life, just use a little for stir-fries.

I usually pour any small bits left into the bin, then rinse the pan out.

But, a few years ago I became addicted to eating goats cheese marinated in oil with my scrambled eggs for breakfast.

When I finish the cheese, lots of oil is left behind. I leave the jars of oil in the fridge until there’s no room left for food, then I pour the contents down the sink and recycle the jars.

Well, I used to. I now understand that it is very, very ill-advised to pour lots of oil down your sink.

Anyways, DD’s next text said: “Ever heard of a fat burg?”

Er, no.

And the following conversation ensued:

Dan is the plumber.

DD then sent me a pic of my fat burg, saying “My hands went into that”.

So my fat burg was removed for free. Yay!

DD must really love me because the smell of that fat burg wafting around the yard when I got home almost made me retch.

It. Was. Disgusting.

Song of the day: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds “Do you love me?”

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