I'm a bit on the dramatic side. So when my dear soap-making crockpot succumbed to old age, (and was subjected to more soaping than it could handle) I decided to write a loving poem in memory of my crockpot.
Ode To A Crockpot
Passed down to Jim from his dear old Gram
You were once used to cook pot roast and ham
As most single guys do; he oft ran about
Jim never once used you and always ate out
Packed in a box and moved state to state
A decade went by, when we met it was fate
I had an idea to make goodies for your skin
I looked in the closet in a box you were in
I hollered and shouted, "Jim come and look it!"
"I'll make hot process soap. Simply just cook it!"
A million bars later and thousands of hours
You're cracking and peeling and losing your power
Time to retire you and make a new start
Even in crockpot heaven you'll be close to my heart