Well, that was interesting. All I wanted to do this evening was bottle the midsummer mead -- which I did.
I wasn't expecting to spend part of the evening under the kitchen sink, 'though.
And I hadn't even tasted the mead yet.
You see, I have a useful little brass gizmo called a bottle washer, suitable for power-rinsing empty bottles before sterilizing and filling them. In theory, you unscrew the aerator from a tap and screw this thing on instead, and then you can just fit a bottle neck over it, press gently, and bombard the inside of the bottle with hot water to rinse it out.
Unfortunately, My kitchen faucet doesn't work like that. This is the first batch of mead that I've brewed since the kitchen renovations, and the first time I tried to use the new sink for preparing the bottles. I took the bottle washer out of My box of brewing equipment, unscrewed the head of the tap...
...and the hose attached to it immediately retreated up the spout and around a very long bend, taking with it the fitting that actually secures the spray hose to the spray head. I tried fishing it out with a souvlaki skewer. I tried banging on the pipe in various interesting ways. I tried feeding the spray hose back up from the bottom in the hopes that it would catch on the trapped part and pull it back down to the end of the spout. I tried poking, prodding, and even duct tape.
Then I sighed heavily and actually removed the tap, in the hopes that I'd be able to shake the part loose. I got the correct screwdriver on the third try, an evil omen if ever there was one. For reasons that remain a total mystery at press time, first I thought I saw a slot-head screw. Then I thought it was a #2 Robertson screw. It was actually a Phillips screw, so after trips downstairs and upstairs and downstairs again I had an appropriate star-head screwdriver and was able to loosen the retaining ring for the faucet.
To make a long story short, the faucet is in a gazillion pieces, the stuck part is still stuck somewhere in the pipe, and I managed to twist the hot and cold water feed hoses into such topographically improbable knots that I'm scared to use them lest they spring a leak.
In the end I washed the bottles in the bathroom sink, filled 22 of them and put them in a safe place, cleaned up the kitchen, and raised a mug to the Æsir and Vanir and called it a night.
Tomorrow morning, when the hardware store opens, I'm going to buy a new tap.
One that works with a bottle washer, of course.