Several all-glass syringes. Both plunger and barrel and needle/cannula attachment point are entirely made of glass, with the inner portion of the barrel and outer of the plunger partly ground glass, to serve to stop the things falling apart too easily. Two 10ml and 2 30ml ones.
Also bought a 1-liter side round-bottom flask with a long side-arm (unground glass) a bit more than half way above the bottom. I used to have a smaller one...but...somebody, a clandestine chemist, and a really bright, promising and talented girl from albania, a real sweet lass, she drew a hand-done charcoal sketch, showing me with that other, smaller sidearm still flask I had in one hand, and her, walking just behind me, me clothed only in shoes and trousers, and her, wearing nothing but an erlenmeyer flask in one hand.
Just a very short time after, she took her own life
And not long after that, that flask, the side-arm shattered. I have yet to have the heart to try and fix it, or even just seal the hole and convert it to a boiling flask with a long neck. Why? because of the timing really, and because this girl, although I never got to tell her, partly due to op-sec reasons and partly because, I just hadn't enough time...but she had been growing sweet on me, and I had a lot of affection for her. She never got to hear it from me just how much. And Quite honestly, whilst it might already have been a pretty ragged few scraps of an organ, when she took her own life, what was left of my heart, fucking broken.
I'd have loved to have been able to freely, safely meet her, and for us to spend time together, work side by side together in either her lab or mine. (and believe you me, it takes a LOT for me to voluntarily permit anybody to enter my lab, or even just to look in. Only my closest friends have ever looked in, and a very few of them have. And I haven't let anybody in for a long, long time, in fact I'm not sure if I ever have. If I have, it will have been my beloved former fiancee, Cazzie, someone who still, even over a decade since I last saw her, at 14, I love still, and I know her to have been my true soulmate. What I gave, what we had, she still has to the point I have never again been able to fully love someone, bar one person, who could have been a soulmate, a beautiful, bright, elegant and charming autie lady by the nick 'heretic' who briefly popped up, for a really short time on AFF, we got talking by chance and got to know each other, and we'd gotten into a long distance, but intimate as possible, relationship. A very special girl. Quite the opposite, age-wise to cazzie, nearly 50 at the time, but could pass w/o effort for 30s, and if she tried using makeup (pretty sure she doesn't, it just isn't her, to try and look or be anything other than 'what you see is what you get' kind of girl, in the extreme. Heretic doesn't just not wear a mask...she collects them to hold bonfires of them
Unusual woman, Tim McVeigh the terrorist bomber guy's former prison penpal (she wasn't locked up, she isn't that type of person at all, and a very special one. Autie, and everything a guy could ever dream of a woman being. Although unfortunately the fucking filthy hell-beshat gorgonslut cunting whoreborn bitch borderline PD bitch queen from Tartarus former housemate of mine, the one that tried to kill me did everything she could to get in our way, and IMO that plus Heretic really not being a people-person, that fucked things up. Although we still care about and for each other. And I'd still willingly give her a vital organ or organs if she needed a transplant, even, even if it would end me. Something I'd do only for cazzie and one, maybe two others. One an ex gf who is one of my most cherished friends I've ever had or do have, and the other, well, someone who doesn't know it, at least unless she's clocked on to it but said nothing, and who I have loved as much as what is left of me can do, although silently, for..ever since I've known her.
Got a replacement sidearm distillation flask, the one that broke shortly after the girl who drew us together in her sketch she did just for me, took her own life, that was 150ml or 250ml, I forget which, 250 I think. But even looking at this new one...holding it can't help but make me think again of sov, (not her full name), the clandestine chemist girl from albania.
When I try effecting a repair on that one, I think I'll sprinkle a pinch of the glass dust, from the sidearm of the flask left from prepping it for an attempt at repairing it with what glass-blowing skills I have, into the soil at the heart of the memorial garden I have planned out to be planted in her memory, and in commemoration of the loss to both the clandestine chemist community, and of what could, if things had been different, ended up as love. I felt for her, and I still miss her.
I can't read a post of her's even, or see her avatar on the forum we interacted, see her name referred to, or read a PM she sent, let alone see the pic she sketched of us, showing us each with a piece of glassware, and neither of us wearing much. In her case, nothing but the erlenmeyer.
Days to a week or so later, one of her relatives, of a sort, an other half of one of her blood relatives posted, just a few posts, not a chemist, but came on, to post the news that she had taken her own life.
And days after, the flask in the picture, the side-arm broke off.
RIP hun, you are going to be missed. You, your intellect, our touching of minds, your quirky, idiosyncratic way of using english, the kindness and effort you spent in drawing that picture, which I'll always treasure. All of you. Lol, I don't know if she was or not, but the language difference, when she wrote in english she even sounded kinda spazzy. It was really cute. Wish I could have told you that, and how and why. I'll always be fond of you. And come this year, there will be sown the start of a memorial garden, with a pair of yew trees planted side by side, along with white and red roses, for death, and for love, along with a field of opium poppy, the best seedstock that money can buy; to symbolize peace and eternal rest. And other things besides....I know she would want those other things.
And every distillation I do with this new side-arm flask, I'll be doing it for you at heart. I know if there is anything past this life, and after death, you'll be watching and smiling that pretty smile, as toasty as any hotplate cranked up to maximum or any bunsen burner with a roaring flame going. Because thats what you made me feel. Like a fucking thermite charge igniting. Intense, blindingly flaring heat, yet all too ephemeral and way too short. Although when the oxides are separated out, then things of value to be found within. Things like you, dear one.