We ignored it for a few days, but after returning from visiting Bret’s parents this weekend, we could stand it no longer.
“Where is that smell coming from?” I asked in an admittedly disgusted voice. I opened the pantry that houses our garbage and recycling. “Not there.” I stick my nose in the sink on the disposer side. “Not there.” I open the refrigerator and am smacked in the face with stench.
Over the past couple of weeks, we’ve had many guests. My parents were here and we made a turkey. Bret’s sister and her family came and we made fondue. The Eagles played the Giants. We invited friends and made a ham. All of these guests and events produced leftovers, which were now filling my fridge in tupperware. And one of them smelled. Bad.
One by one, I took the containers from the refrigerator to inspect, thirteen in all. Broccoli, potatoes, fruit, chocolate/peanut butter concoction. Fondue. Stuffing. Turkey. Ham, pineapple. Giants/Eagles game. There were a few more in there that had no doubt exceeded their shelf life. I can’t even remember when we made them. Pigs in a blanket. Who saves those? My husband, that’s who. Something that looks like queso dip and one so unrecognizable that the whole tupperware container went in the garbage with it. Eww.
We trashed. We washed. We dried. We have yet to put away and they are still in the dish strainer. But alas, I have not yet found the answer to my question.
Oscar has only played in snow twice; the first was when we was only a pup. He walked in circles licking, tongue slipping in and out of his mouth at furious speed, trying to lap up all of the crystal whites.
The second was yesterday. His reaction was just as immature as the first. I let him off the leash and he went bounding like a bunny into the woods. He dug his nose down in those four inches and plowed ahead. When he’d look up, nose covered his snout like sugar powder sprinkled on Christmas cookies.
I bounded after him. After all, it was my first snowfall in a whole year too! I followed him deeper into the woods, father than I’ve ever gone. I emerged into what looked like a snowboarders dream. Smooth, pure, powdery snow stretched across a field in front of me. Small moguls formed on my right. Tall, bare trees stood on my left. Oscar went racing into the open middle.
We romped for some time. I threw snowballs up for Oscar. He jumped up to catch them and crunched them in half. He rolled around on his back and I belly rubbed him. He leaped moguls while I shot some pics.
Eventually, after both he and I were slightly worn out, we headed home. But when we arrived at our door, I noticed Oscar did not leave much snow back in snowboard land. It attached to his fur and clumped up between his toes. We spend a good deal of time in the garage drying him off and de-snowing him.
Frolicking with the pup. What a wonderful midwinter snow day treat!