It seems that only a week ago I first read a story about serious injury occuring involving glass carboys. Well, this weekend I had my own experience that I want to share.
I bottled my latest batch, what I called "Hark the Herald Honey Pale Ale" which was festively named as I brewed it around Christmas. It turned out great, albiet drier than planned thanks to us-05. My glass carboy had some serious pellet hop gunk stuck to the inside, and I could not find my carboy brush. So, I placed about 5 or 6 cups of warm water in the bottom and covered it with saran wrap to allow the steam to permeate.
After a few hours, I tried sloshing it around to remove the hops... to no avail. So, I added fresh warm water, replaced the covering, and set it on my kitchen floor near the opening to the hallway. I felt, that placing the carboy there would help remind me (I have a REALLY bad short term memory) to purchase a new carboy brush.
So, on Saturday after I drank some of my homebrew (Had some of my IIPA, my Willamette Pale, and some Scottish Ale), I found my rotundish tummy growling, likely in protest of too many liquids and not enough solids. Over the legal limit, I stumbled my way over to the kitched in the dark at 1 AM to find some greasy plate stainers(junk food).
Well, I remember thinking to myself - 'Geez I can barely see anything...', and then my life flashed before my eyes as my right leg came into contact with what I immediately knew was my carboy. SMASH!!!!!
What a friggin mess. Funny part of it, is my Mother in-law is staying with us for a few months from out of country and her bendroom is on that same floor. All she likely heard was "SMASH", and then her very polite son-in-law saying words that would shock Billy-Bob Thorton, over and over again. I can just imagine her huddled under the sheets in wondering WTF?
So yeah, I am a moron. I mean, why place an extremely fragile carboy in the ENTRY WAY thinking that because it is blocking my path it will remind me to clean it?????? I mean seriously? I think I am just lucky as hell that I did not slice myself open.
In the end, I was just glad I didn't waste beer.... I mean seriously.
I would have had to call in to work on Monday due to a death in my family (the beer).