Halloween Horror!

Disclaimer: Neighbours of this author who may consider a future run for office should probably distance themselves from said author now. She is dangerous and scary.



I have a confession to make. I am a serial-killer...



...of kettles.

*Cue psychotic laughter*

Next to our side-garden gate lies the gruesome graveyard...poor, innocent victims of my madness. Each time I swore, "Never again!" as I bought another. Just recently the latest fell, its handle melted and misshapen, and was added to the shameful, macabre exhibition in the October rain.

Everyone in the 'hood knows my Brit roots require constant dousing with tea...oh sweet nectar of the gods! Over the years I've made at least seven hundred and fifty-twelve billion cuppas with those old-fashioned, put-on-the-stove, kettles. It seemed the quick and cheap fix.

I'm also a multi-tasker (with a capital MUH!) and often make my tea on the fly while doing my Edith Bunker shuffle through the house and studio, seeing to the many projects and different jobs of the day. Blameless vessels have borne the weight of my feminism and floppy left-brain.

Whistling kettles you say? Well, here's today's Lyme lesson: When bacteria compromise the brain and Central Nervous System, all senses can be heightened to excruciating levels. Imagine feeling assaulted by sounds, touch, tastes, light and smells; that's a part of chronic Lyme disease.

It was time to admit I had a problem...before I burned the bloody house down! Shame-facedly I showed my husband the latest hideous corpse, it's handle in lopsided rigour-mortis. We both agreed something had to be done.

It was time to upgrade to the Cadillac of kettles.

Out of my bad deeds has come this "stainless-steel parachute" reward! Ooh, it's sleek and shiny, plugs into the wall, has a filter for the minerals, goes from chilled to 212 degrees in less time than I can feed the cat....AND...immediately shuts itself off at a good boil. Where have you been all my life, oh energy-efficient, life-saving marvel of technology? Purrrrrrrrr!

Let the gristly graveyard of kettles past be this Halloween's horror display.

I saw my responsibilities. I saw change...

...and change makes me relax with a damn fine cuppa tea, Joe.