So there I was minding my own business, tugging along a freshly brewed vat of Peach Blush Kombucha over to her warm resting place among her sisters, when one of her wheels catches on a small chink in the great armor of the cement floor. My momentum immediately halted but the force of about 400 pounds of liquid inertia kept going. Realizing, trying to brace this with the back of my arm was futile, I watched horrified as my freshly sparkling vat of precious nectar fell with a thunder and a splash like an ocean wave hitting the shore.
“F*#!k”! I yelled to the rafters, hopelessly standing in the spreading pool of stickiness. The SCOBy’s that fell looked like sad toddlers crumpled to the ground after finding out they can’t have candy.
Alla and Greg came running only to discover the horror on the floor. I turned to Alla, who was just about to head out for the day and said “You CAN’T leave!” vehemently. We all just sort of stood there dumbfounded as the pool stretched along the far wall, under the tables and racks.
We have no floor drain in this room. Why? It was a very large expense that we are now looking into and negotiating with the landlord, so I don’t want to hear about it.
SO, how do you clean up over 50 gallons of sticky liquid off the floor. TEAMWORK!! We got this system where one person basically sweeps the liquid towards the other who is holding a huge dust pan and scooping the liquid into a bucket. Ingenuity, my dear fellows! Then a third person mops and squeezes and empties the liquid out. Once the major flooding is taken care of, it’s a matter of mopping up the rest and then clean mopping 3 or 4 times until the floor is no longer sticky. We cleaned in good spirits knowing it just had to be done and fell into a quiet rhythm with one another. It was done before we knew it. Lucky for us, our floor is cement so some of it seeped in. The floors are slowly turning black from spills and if we ever move out of here, the scent of kombucha will permanently be embedded in the foundation for centuries to come.
What happened to the lovely shiny vat? You may ask. It created a bit of a face upon it’s reflective surface. A primal, sort of, serious mug dented perfectly into the side…No one noticed after the big clean up. We all just wanted to go home and scrub off the day’s work. I was covered in 20 different stenches that day. I smelled of Kombucha, of course, plus work stank, fear stank, anger stank and my feet had gotten soaked through my shoes and dried by the time I got home, so they stank too.
The next day, I came in to the kitchen and there she was, staring at me. I immediately thought back to cheesy road side Tiki’s from cheap tourist shops growing up in Hawaii. Boochi Tiki had arrived in thunder and waves and now sits in our kitchen witness to our growing production. I laughed and did a fun little dance with her. I sometimes grab the handles of the vats and do-si-do with them to create joy in the atmosphere and stir up good energy. Boochie Tiki has become a sign of taking things one careful step at a time, mindfully moving, and re-affirming that work is easier and more fun when shared. Sometimes stuff just needs to get done. No sense bitching about it. Now we have a lovely kitchen goddess to watch over us. Keep an eye out on our Vine feed for videos featuring this lovely lady, Boochi Tiki. So next time you are enjoying a bottle of Peach Blush Kombucha, know that mighty Booch Goddess is smiling upon you. Yes, she still gets to work. She would be sad in retirement.
To your health!