The foulest stench is in the air, the funk of forty thousand years . . .
Actually it's just the funk of a couple of days, which is much worse, because in forty thousand years the stench would be completely gone.
Yesterday Bruce noticed that our garage was rather stinky. I did not notice—at first—because our garage is full of smelly things like bug-killer, fertilizer, lawn mowers, and gas cans; and also because I've had hay-fever for the last three weeks which means I have a very stuffy nose. But by 10 p.m. it was definitely reeking out there, and Bruce figured out why: someone had unplugged the chest freezer we keep in the garage. Now this story would be entirely different if this had happened in the dead of winter when we can use the entire garage for a freezer; but right now we are in the longest, hottest, sunniest days of summer. What is with us and rotting meat? If it's not a dead mouse, then it's a freezer full of poultry! Ugh!
Trash pick-up day was yesterday morning, so we were stumped to find a way of disposing of the mess. We couldn't leave it rotting in a black trash can, in the sun, every day for the next week. My parents' trash day is today, but I was sure they were already in bed at 10:30 last night and wouldn't answer the phone, and I didn't want to just sneak a lot of rotten meat into their trash can. Finally we decided to just plug the freezer back in; I figured everything would freeze back up which would clear away the smell until next week when we could put the meat into our own trash can and then we could clean the freezer. Well, it turns out that last night was a hot, hot night; was it possible for everything to be frozen again? The smell in the garage—which had Tucker delicately sniffing toward the door as if he could smell some sweet perfume—and the swarm of flies around the freezer (which sits right next to the door into the house) convinced me that we had no such luck.
Actually it's just the funk of a couple of days, which is much worse, because in forty thousand years the stench would be completely gone.
Yesterday Bruce noticed that our garage was rather stinky. I did not notice—at first—because our garage is full of smelly things like bug-killer, fertilizer, lawn mowers, and gas cans; and also because I've had hay-fever for the last three weeks which means I have a very stuffy nose. But by 10 p.m. it was definitely reeking out there, and Bruce figured out why: someone had unplugged the chest freezer we keep in the garage. Now this story would be entirely different if this had happened in the dead of winter when we can use the entire garage for a freezer; but right now we are in the longest, hottest, sunniest days of summer. What is with us and rotting meat? If it's not a dead mouse, then it's a freezer full of poultry! Ugh!
Trash pick-up day was yesterday morning, so we were stumped to find a way of disposing of the mess. We couldn't leave it rotting in a black trash can, in the sun, every day for the next week. My parents' trash day is today, but I was sure they were already in bed at 10:30 last night and wouldn't answer the phone, and I didn't want to just sneak a lot of rotten meat into their trash can. Finally we decided to just plug the freezer back in; I figured everything would freeze back up which would clear away the smell until next week when we could put the meat into our own trash can and then we could clean the freezer. Well, it turns out that last night was a hot, hot night; was it possible for everything to be frozen again? The smell in the garage—which had Tucker delicately sniffing toward the door as if he could smell some sweet perfume—and the swarm of flies around the freezer (which sits right next to the door into the house) convinced me that we had no such luck.
all those years of ballet classes were not wasted: I had to stand on my toes and lift my other leg to be able to reach into the bottom of the freezer.
I tried calling my parents to see if I could still sneak the stuff into their trash can, but they didn't answer the phone. Then I called Melanie to see if—by any miraculous chance—she knew when their trash pick-up was. She didn't; but, by a stroke of luck, her trash hadn't been picked up yet 
today. So I rushed over with about 60 pounds of semi-thawed, smelly meat, and some formerly frozen apricots. Getting it out of the freezer was gaggy: that sick, sweet smell that meat gets, in combination with a vinegary smell from the apricots. (I know . . . thanks for sharing, Loralee!) After I dropped my disaster into Melanie's trash can (with her permission, of course) I washed my hands and then drove away with a feeling of paranoia that the truck wouldn't go through her neighborhood for some awful reason and then she'd be stuck with the stench, and the fly-factory, until next week. Oh, that would be terrible—I'd feel guilty forever!
On the way home from Melanie's house I thought perhaps I'd better ask Michael to finish cleaning the bathroom for me so I could get right to cleaning the freezer. (I stopped in the middle of that job so I could get to Melanie's before the garbage truck did). And then I had a most clever—perhaps bordering on conniving—idea! The kids were already cleaning the house this morning; they were doing the kitchen, living-room, and laundry-room, while I did the bathroom. They were almost finished with their work when I got back home. So I gathered them all together; praised their work, and told them that we had to do three more jobs this morning; I'd do one and they could do the others—and they got to choose which two they'd do. The jobs were 1. clean the inside of the van, including vacuuming; 2. mop the kitchen, hallway, and bathroom; 3. clean out the smelly freezer.
today. So I rushed over with about 60 pounds of semi-thawed, smelly meat, and some formerly frozen apricots. Getting it out of the freezer was gaggy: that sick, sweet smell that meat gets, in combination with a vinegary smell from the apricots. (I know . . . thanks for sharing, Loralee!) After I dropped my disaster into Melanie's trash can (with her permission, of course) I washed my hands and then drove away with a feeling of paranoia that the truck wouldn't go through her neighborhood for some awful reason and then she'd be stuck with the stench, and the fly-factory, until next week. Oh, that would be terrible—I'd feel guilty forever!
On the way home from Melanie's house I thought perhaps I'd better ask Michael to finish cleaning the bathroom for me so I could get right to cleaning the freezer. (I stopped in the middle of that job so I could get to Melanie's before the garbage truck did). And then I had a most clever—perhaps bordering on conniving—idea! The kids were already cleaning the house this morning; they were doing the kitchen, living-room, and laundry-room, while I did the bathroom. They were almost finished with their work when I got back home. So I gathered them all together; praised their work, and told them that we had to do three more jobs this morning; I'd do one and they could do the others—and they got to choose which two they'd do. The jobs were 1. clean the inside of the van, including vacuuming; 2. mop the kitchen, hallway, and bathroom; 3. clean out the smelly freezer. After I finished up cleaning the bathroom I went out to tackle the freezer. It was a very nasty two hours; but with a bandanna to cover my nose and 
mouth, a wet-dry vac, old rags (which I threw away as soon as the job was finished), some bleach, and lots of water, I got it all done.
Which was worse? Cleaning up after 60 pounds of spoiled meat, or cleaning up after a 2-ounce mouse? The mouse was definitely worse.
And anyway, at the end of this rotten adventure I also ended up with a clean floor and a clean van!
mouth, a wet-dry vac, old rags (which I threw away as soon as the job was finished), some bleach, and lots of water, I got it all done.Which was worse? Cleaning up after 60 pounds of spoiled meat, or cleaning up after a 2-ounce mouse? The mouse was definitely worse.
And anyway, at the end of this rotten adventure I also ended up with a clean floor and a clean van!
4 comments:
Yuck!
I don't quite see how a mouse is worse than 60 lbs of rotten meat, but the next morning before mom went to take the meat away, me and my sisters played a game where we ran away from the disgusting smell!!! ;)
I think it would be much worse to throw away a slimy, grimy, smelly dead mouse than 60 lbs of rotten meat AND apricots. (Accually I'd rather do none.) ;-)
That sounds very disgusting. But, Luck me, I was at camp and not around for this adventure. ALso, I'l bet I had more fun than you did.
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