Stuff, only I could write.

1. Doe a deer a Female Deer…

I live in rural North Georgia.
The scenery is graced heavily
with rolling hills.
Majestic magnolias dot the streets.
I don’t name my town here publicly
simply for safety’s sake. But anyone
with a mapquest link could find us.

The drive to work takes us through
a civil war battlefield. Monuments
line the road. It is a protected space
for wildlife. We are greeted almost
daily with many deer on the roadside.
We slow, so as not to hurt them or
ourselves if they should dart out
in front of our car. They stop their
grazing and stare. We stare in return.
Admiring their gentle strength.
It becomes obvious to us that we are
interrupting their breakfast and so
we move on. Grateful for the glimpse of
their beauty.

____________________________

2. Onions will be the death of me.

I’ve written before of
my nausea inducing distaste
for this well loved root.
It harkens back to a childhood
abusive moment I know.
But still, it is a choice I have
long since subconsciously made to
avoid them at all costs.
It literally ruins my enjoyment
of whatever I am eating to come
in contact with them.
I don’t mind the flavor. It is
the crunch I can not take.
I buy onion powder and even minced
dehydrated onions. In moderation,
both are fine.
Jan knows all this, and respects
my dislike. Recently she made us tuna
salad. Unbeknownst to me she
used the dehydrated onions.
You get two points if you can tell
me what happens to a dehydrated onion
when met with a liquid. I bit into this
much anticipated sandwich. Prepared to
enjoy and rare taste of tuna. The onions
stopped me in my tracks. The crunch was felt
by my teeth and triggered that awful sick
feeling. My sandwich became dog food.

Last evening a meatloaf greeted me.
Well; ok first the dogs then Hilary,
my Jan and then the meatloaf.
In that order…
The meal was complete with a side dish
of carrots, peas, rolls and more…
She was so kind to prepare this meal,
I was truly grateful.

You have got to know where this is going.
Yes the dehydrated onions reappeared.
In an alarming amount! I could have
handled them being used as a flavoring…
a spice. I repeat, the use of them sparingly
is the key.(yes I am nuts)
When cooked, they no longer crunch.
This small loaf pan of meatloaf had to
have had at least a full cup of onions.

This morning I hear the truth
of the onions. The container went out of
control and tipped…pouring massive
amounts into said meatloaf. Facts matter.
That’s all I am saying.
Because for a half a minute there I was
thinking that she just didn’t get the
onion phobia thing anymore.
Either that or she is trying to kill me.
______________________________

3. Granny Panties…

Jan once bought me…in a moment
of insanity a sexy red lace babydoll
night gown.
Oh hell who are we kidding here.
It was an “I wanna get me some” outfit.
It worked, but the panties included
were rejected almost immediately.
They were thongs… one tiny
length of fabric which was supposed
to contain what? I don’t know.
Certainly not my well endowed ass.

This was a sensation I have never felt
before and never want to again.
A shoestring in my crack. What fun.
Please torture me some more.
Why do people wear these things?
I am a hanes her way brief girl.
Sexy huh? Yeah well deal with it.
I want full coverage. I dare them to crawl.
Cover me, be there for me. Don’t ride places
you shouldn’t be. We will get along just fine.
Leave the thongs for the young girls.
The same ones who wear sweats with words
like princess or naughty or bitch
emblazoned on the rear.
___________________________

4. My nose knows, well nothing really.

I don’t know when it happened.
This loss of scent I now live with.
I am able to smell very little.
On any given day I may smell nothing
or only strong scents.
This comes in handy in some respects.
It is also missed.
I want to smell bacon frying and flowers
in my yard. They tell me the yard smells like
wild honeysuckle right now.
I miss that.

I believe it stems from a lifetime of
cleaning supplies assaulting my sense of
smell. The culprit for much of my lung
function loss as well.

I am a popular person at work,
when the unclean and uncared for come in.
I am volunteered for the task.
I don’t really mind and my co-workers
always owe me for doing it.
It’s nice to be appreciated if only
for my lack of the sense of smell.

Off to work…