<$BlogRSDUrl$>

••• Thursday, October 30, 2003

What's That Funny Smell?
I have a keen sense of snout and drive my husband crazy with the daily query "What's that smell?" followed with "I can't believe you don't smell that!"

A couple of days ago he tells me that the whiny whiffing is becoming rather unpleasant. That I'm turning into a smelly nag. A trifling whiffler. Fueling the complaint, I believe, is the fact that my husband couldn't sniff his way to a pig farm on a hot August afternoon.

But his point was well taken and I promised to put a plug in it.

Yesterday after work I had a dentist appointment and arrived home de-tartared, polished, flossed, tired and hungry. Hoping to find dinner piping on the stove, I instead was greeted by a smell. A bad smell. A lay-an-olfactory-smackdown-on-my-delicate-scentsibilities- smell.

And this wasn't the malodorous essence of the usual suspects like a musty dishrag or petrifying garlic clove.

I smelled poop.
Allottapoop.
A load unloaded.

But a promise is a promise, so I said nothing.

While giving my husband a dental update, I simultaneously puzzled over how I could ask about the stench without breaking my stinking resolve to be less whiffery. I next wondered if I was rapidly morphing from the woman who smelled too much into the wife who couldn't say "shit" with a noseful. I don't stink so.

"What is that smell? I blurted. "I can't believe you can't smell that!"

"I don't smell anything. "

I quickly snuffled my way to the basement to find not one but two heaping piles of labradoo-doo. I then called Mr. Ismellnuthin to clean it up.

Today I came home to the normal smells. Still feeling a bit nostril-shy from the previous day's malfeasance, I ran a quick visual sweep of the environs and spied this in the living room:



Damn!

I cuss out the dog while I go for the poop bag and hold my breath as I make my approach for the scoop. Closing in on the prey, I recognize what I'm dealing with and don't know if I should laugh with relief or cry at the reality of my deteriorating eyesight. 'Cause I was about to bag me some beaver.

Bundling Excitement
I've become quite smitten with the Smocking on the Move sweater in the recent edition of Interweave Knits. While I need another project like I need another hole in my head, I picked up this mohair, silk and wool blend by Harrisville Designs from a local yarn shop with the hopes of making a smockery of it.

At the yarn shop, I thought I read "Orchid" something on the label, but the labels on the batch I brought home identify it as Soft Spun Yarns. It's a good deal at 8 bucks a skein with 245 yards per. The color is called Copenhagen Blue but in the real world looks to be Periwinklish. True hue is sorely underrepresented in this picture, even taken in natural light.



I have Friday off and plan to do nothing but snuggle with a tender toddlegoblin and knit.

So, put that in your pipe and smock it.
# posted by Marcia @ 11:54 PM


Comments: Post a Comment