Wednesday, October 24, 2007


Mr.Q and I were having a nice little snuggle after dinner. Maybe even getting a little cozy, if you know what I mean (wink wink, nudge nudge!) But just before things started to get interesting, there was a smell. At first, for one too-brief moment, we thought the kids upstairs were sneaking a joint while their mother was out. Then we realized the smell was a little too acrid for that. We looked at each other and at the same time, said "Skunk. Oh shit." and went looking to see if all the beasties were accounted for.

One was not. I was fairly-but-not-entirely certain we'd have heard it if she'd got into a scrap with a skunk. But what to do? Risk having her come inside, full of skunk spray? Go looking for her, and risk getting sprayed ourselves? As we debated, the smell got worse and worse. Mr.Q (brilliant man!) phoned upstairs to see if they smelled it - one of their dogs got blasted in the back yard - hence the proximity and potency of the reek. And let me tell you, it's strong. Way worse than Mom's car smelled that time she whacked one while driving. Up till now, I pretty much thought that was my benchmark for stinky. Not so much anymore!

Boiling vinegar on the stove, with cinnamon and cloves. A baking dish full of mulling spices in the oven. Cups of coffee grounds placed strategically around the house. It smells like Christmas morning in a grow-op.

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