You may be getting bored with my summer stories so I thought I would throw in a funny story about this one massage I did on a regular year round client back in the day. This was probably circa 1998. I was a single mom at the time raising and supporting my daughter by myself with no financial help.
On the way to the supermarket one day I noticed a sign for pottery classes. As luck would have it the pottery teacher loved massage and agreed to do a trade. Massage for pottery classes. The pottery teacher’s name was Byron and he was a riot. I had taken pottery in high school and had become fairly proficient with the pottery wheel. I attended classes every Wednesday morning. I enjoyed re-learning the skills I had acquired in that high school art class many moons ago. On this one day I was at Byron’s fulfilling my end of the deal with a massage.
I set my table up as I always had in the open area between the kitchen and the dining area, except this time for whatever reason it seemed like a good idea to place my plastic oil bottle on the stoked wood stove. As soon as the bottle hit the stove I knew I had trouble. The bottom melted right off the bottle leaking oil all over the hot stove. Then the oil started to smoke. Unfortunately there was nothing that could be done. A stoked wood stove is way to hot to touch so we had to let the massage oil burn off. I felt and I believe I also looked like an idiot. Luckily Byron took it in stride and I went ahead and did the massage. Note to self………….stay away from the wood stove!