Chicken Broth

I remember when I first started cooking, the simple act of making chicken broth terrified me.  I would stand by the pot, waiting for it to boil and foam, armed with ladle, and ready to skim.  I would constantly go back to the pot, tasty the oily broth and noting the change in taste as the broth simmered through the afternoon.  I made a pot of chicken broth this afternoon, and it seemed like second nature.  It has been years since I first learned how to make a pot of chicken broth, and the terror has lessened.  The only thing I regret was not tasting it as many times as I once did.  At this moment I am wondering if it was over salted.  I hear the clang of a pot hitting the porcelain sink.  My husband is washing my soup pot for me. :)