June 20, 2012

Close call

I was making a big batch of applesauce to send over to Film Guy’s mother; she’s going through what we hope will be her last round of chemotherapy. In the summer, I usually cook at night, after the house cools down, so it was dark outside, with clouds covering the moon.

When the compost bucket began to overflow with apple cores and peelings, I decided to take it out to the compost pile, which is right near the back door. In barefeet and shorts, I walked outside onto the dewy grass, bucket in hand.

As I stepped over to the compost pile, I could see something moving in the dark. I figured it was probably one of our cats who had noticed the open door and wanted to come in. I stepped aside to let the cat brush past my ankles as I turned the bucket upside down. I figured the cat would know enough to move out of the way before getting covered with apple peels.

Just as I shook out the bucket, the creature moved again. In that split second, I realized my mistake.

I jumped back into the house and slammed the door, but not before a strong odor filled the air. The smell followed me into the house.

 “Ew,” said With-a-Why.
 “Don’t come near me,” said my daughter.
“God, that stinks,” said my husband.

All I could smell was skunk. I was pretty sure I hadn’t actually gotten sprayed, because I think I would have felt the spray on my bare legs, but the odor was so strong that I couldn’t really tell. I kept asking family members to come over and smell me, but they all seemed eager to keep their distance.

Finally, I figured out that the smell was coming in the open kitchen window, so I closed any windows that faced the backyard. That strategy seemed to work. “Or maybe we’ll just getting used to the smell,” said my husband.

That’s when Boy-in-Black and Shaggy Hair Boy arrived home from their late night trip to the grocery store, I didn’t tell them anything about the skunk. I asked, “What does the house smell like?” 

Boy-in-Black set down a bag of food and said, “Cinnamon.”

Relieved, I went back to making the applesauce.


Lilian said...

YIKES!!! that was a close call indeed. I'm shuddering just thinking of it.

Cindy said...

You are soooooo lucky!!!

Zhoen said...

That's the problem with our sense of smell, once it's triggered, it gets into a permanent panic - as though to make bloody sure we never forget.

Not your fault, but poor little skunk.

Magpie said...

i often think skunk smells like coffee. maybe not up close... :)

Anonymous said...

I think if you'd been sprayed, you'd know IMMEDIATELY. It's so intense.


YourFireAnt said...

What you need to do when you're still smelling it after it's gone is re-educate your sense of smell. By doing something like stuffing basil leaves up the nostrils.