This information was especially important to me because I seem to be rather sensitive to food borne poisons. If there is one little bad bacteria it will happily multiple after I've eaten it and the results for me is a session in the room full of porcelain.
The Cottage Master is one of those evil tax collectors. He sits at his desk from January 2nd until midnight April 15th helping people sort out their financial information from the previous year and tells them how much of their hard-earned money the IRS is going to require.
He has a box of tissues on his desk for the emotional outbursts.
Because he stays at that desk until the last person has come through the door for the day I never know what time to have dinner ready. Last night I kept a casserole in the oven for two hours after it had finished cooking. The food was still hot but I guess it had time to bred a few nasty bacteria that played havoc with my sleep last night.
Having food poisoning is a miserable thing. I thought I would die and then I wished I would die just to get it over.
Should I ever actually die of food poisoning I'm afraid that the police may suspect the Cottage Master of hastening my death deliberately. I think I might have to write a note for the occasion. Dear Coroner, He did not kill me -- I poisoned myself accidentally with the casserole.