Thursday, June 19, 2008

The grass is not always greener

He did it very smoothly, letting me know that he was going to go out and grab some soil for the backyard project - the project that has been months in the making and that never seems to end. The elusive, the mighty, "Let's Plant Grass in a Desert Climate" Project. The insurmountable project that E has determined will not defeat him. The "Let's Plant Grass in a Desert Climate" Project that just keeps on from our "Fix up our Master Bedroom and turn it into a sumptuous, sexy den of ....LUST" Project. Of course, I haven't told him what project he's missing out on. I'm withholding like that.

And so he took the van and went to pick up the soil. "Soil", by God! That is how he described it. What he failed to inform me was that he was going to pick up that incredibly fragrant Organic Cow Manure soil. Yes, THAT stuff. In a minivan. In 103 degree heat. A perfect storm of heat and cow turds. And don't let the Organic label fool you. Organic cow shit stinks, too. The other piece of this is that my husband owns a pick-up truck. A. Pick-up. Truck. Yes. A vehicle that some people use for PICKING THINGS UP. Hence the name - Pick-up. You would think that a pick-up truck might, just possibly, appear to be a better choice for picking up such fragrant materials? But, NO.... the pick-up truck is too full of tools and the minivan is just SO available. So the 2004 model minivan is being treated kind of like "the old, washed-up" wife and the 2000 Model pick-up truck is, apparently, The Mistress. That's the bottom line. No, the bottom line is that the smell will now be with the van for days. Days.

Just a sample of the torture that is known as our ...PRESENT LIFE or riding in our minivan:

BOY: EEWWW...YUCK! What is THAT smell?????

ME: It's cow manure, BOY.

BOY: Why? [Why what?? Why in a minivan, PERHAPS? Why did Daddy do this TO US?]

ME: Because your daddy filled the van up with cow manure. [Slighty passive-aggressive Mommy is mad at Daddy voice.]

GIRL: Well, it REALLY SMELLS! I'm going to plug my nose!

E: It's your mommy's FAVORITE smell! HAHAHA
[If the children hadn't been present and I hadn't been strapped into my seatbelt he would be a dead man. And... I was prevented from answering due to the strange sensation of my nostril hairs melting out.]

Yes, my husband is tormenting me. Torture by cow manure. He released "the soil" onto the backyard. And... the smell has now permeated the outside walls of the house, entered the living room, and now... is WAFTING into the office - is nothing fucking sacred, by GOD?! He's been working his ass off spreading the stuff in the back yard, dreaming of his "Let's Plant Grass in a Desert Climate" Project. It will never happen. Never. Trust me. How do I know this? I have two small children under 5 who believe in digging in dirt, chucking dirt, and basically dislodging well intentioned grass seed. And there's the small matter of LIVING IN A DESERT CLIMATE. Oh well... This is ONLY the 2nd or 3rd or 4th time said husband has tried to get the grass to grow. I'm not sure I've got the stomach for a 5th round. I'm all boxed out.

Dear E,

Honey, the perfect backyard lawn isn't coming in. The grass is not always greener and sexual relations are better without eau du cow CA CA. It's too bad, too, because when you bent over the wheelbarrow it was absolutely delightful. I almost reached for the fishnets...but, then I was ASSAULTED by the SMELL of Cow Dung and thoughts of romping through the bedsheets have well... just gone. POOF! Obliterated. If ever there was a smell that would ensure never having sex again, this would be it. Perhaps there's hope in this lifetime 24 hours... Hope that I'll still be here. With fishnets wrapped around my nose...


Your loving wife with blown out olfactory organs

**Picture credit: Google Images

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  1. You paint such a vivid picture that I find myself gagging!

  2. Please, please, PLEASE post E's response to your note! (BTW, I saw that picture at Derfwad Manor: I recognized him immediately as DENNIS QUAID. Who is, in case Mrs. G ever asks, my Secret Boyfriend. Organic cow manure or none. Just sayin'.)

  3. My mom grew up on a dairy farm and calls it "soil" too. It still smells, I don't care what you call it! Thanks for the reminder.

  4. Yuck.

    Get that sod on top of there to cover the smell. Maybe the organics will make the insurmountable grass in a desert climate work???


  5. Oops, I'm out of the main stream on this one. When I gardened in Seattle, I used to use cow manure to mulch the garden beds every autumn. I would get a whole truckload of manure delivered - it came from a dairy farm in Woodinville.

    Yeah, it smelled, but on the bright side, the crack dealers and gangbangers stopped hanging out in the alley for a whole week!

    One year my husband got me a truckload for my birthday!!

  6. This was so funny, J! I loved, "and sexual relations are better without eau du cow CA CA. It's too bad, too, because when you bent over the wheelbarrow it was absolutely delightful. I almost reached for the fishnets...but, then I was ASSAULTED by the SMELL of Cow Dung and thoughts of romping through the bedsheets have well... just gone. POOF!" - I'm still laughing - so funny!

    Have a good weekend - Kellan

  7. This really cracked me up, because my husband is frequently launching into his own ridiculously misguided projects in our basement, and that is precisely why I try to go down there as rarely as possible - ignorance is bliss. I really don't think E thought the cow ca ca smell=no sex equation through beforehand. Maybe you can pretend Sawyer is your new "lawn" man?

  8. I agree--eau du caw CA CA put a damper on 'relations' ;)

    I bet a rock garden would be pretty (and smell a bit better!).

    Very funny :)

  9. Love it...It drives me crazy in the spring when EVERYBODY feels the need to "mulch" everything...yuck. Hmm, yeah, bent over a wheel barrow can be quite enticing...Sorry about the heat, but you DO live in a desert climate.
    Blessings, EJT

  10. oh how I loves me some eau de caca

  11. Have you considered putting his sleeping bag on the back porch and locking him outside so that he could sleep with the eau de caca? Or, leave the keys to the minivan, so he can sleep in there? :-) (sorry, E, I'm not helping, am I?)

    There's not enough Febreeze in the world to get rid of that smell.

    You tell a damn funny story!

  12. ha ha ha ha

    sorry. that stinks.

    oh, that was bad. sorry for that terrible pun.

  13. OMG! Your husband is insane. You are very longsuffering to put up with the minivan thing. I really think you might want to make known what your project might be if the stench around the house and van calms down!

  14. You do tell a hilarious story but I can't believe he put manure in a minivan. You do know what the solution is, right? Paint your nails in the cab of his truck. Then leave an old bottle of polish in there. Open.


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