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Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Death of a Scoby

Oh, the shame!

Do you know what horrible atrocity I have committed?  This is embarassing and dreadful.  My dear friends, I have...I have...killed a scoby.  Actually, a whole pile of them.

Let me explain how this horrible-ness happened.

So let's say maybe four months ago I was kombucha-ing in every direction, resulting in myriads of kombucha amounts.  I was running out of glass jars in which to contain it all.  This is somewhat problematic as I might have a slight problem obsessing over acquiring glass jars, bottles, etc.  Mason jars are a weakness.  And I was running out.  This conflicts strongly with my desire to live simply,  to be completely decluttered at all times and in general as I am employed as an organizational consultant.  (Let me just air out all the dirty laundry at once.)

So, obviously, I needed to stop.  Stop making more kombucha when we weren't drinking it at the pace my gigantic 3 1-gallon jugs were making it.  I decided to pause shop.  Keep some kombucha in those gallon containers with their sweet little scobies, and then also the giant pile of scobies in the scoby hotel.  I decided to come back to it when we began even making a dent in the kombucha supply.

We finally got down to just a bit left and I felt like it was time to start up a bit more.  I clambered up to get my scobies in their kombucha-filled jars, when, DEAR ME OH MY, NO, OH PLEASE, SAY IT ISN'T SOOOOO!!!!  But yes, it was so.

I pulled down two of my jars and saw, stuck on the bottom of the glass, a dried up brown sticky, plastic-y, hard as a rock, dead scoby.  Neglect!  Neglect!  Dreaded! The horrors!

Quick.  Run.  Go get the scoby hotel.  

Oh gosh.  No.


(I guess I may have left these guys go for a

All those scobies, dead.  At my hand.  From neglect!  

Please, my dearies, learn.  I cry out to you, LEARN!  You shall not follow my example in this - nay, learn what not to do and learn from these mistakes.  Several scobies lay dead, may this not ever happen to you and your scobies.

Check on them.  Give them kombucha.  Speak to them, name them.  Let them flourish and multiply.

Luckily, I had one jar that had so much kombucha in it that it didn't dry out.  I was able to make a couple new batches.  And now, I have learned.  May you never have to go through this painful experience.

It did suit my "simplify" attitude as now I only have about three scobies (instead of like the 300 I had before).  So, yeah.  The bright side?

Peace, love and love thy scoby,
Ms. Daisy


  1. Ha, this is funny because I killed my first scoby I had in my first scoby hotel, it dried out. I didn't dare to tell you cause I thought you would think I was the most neglectful person ever! Since then I have been checking on my scobys in their hotel and even added some kombucha to them.

  2. You are hilarious! :) Well, I killed an entire village of them, so yeah.

    Also, had to update: got rid of all of those extra jars. Admitting your horrid shamefulness is helpful in that it inspires you to get something done about it (since when it is vocalized out of your mouth, you realize the despicable situation you've brought yourself to and you must deal with it asap).

    I even pitched two black garbage bags full of junkola...although those may have been a result of the combination of the hubby and the offspring messing up the basement I was tired up cleaning up...