4 July 2010
298
R. Linda:
Oh, the smells of summer! The wafting fragrance of honeysuckle, the perfume smell of roses, the sweet essence of lilac and the uh . . . rather pungent smell of Vicks!
Ah the memories yes, the memories one would associate with that time of year. One thinks of a beautiful summer twilight, one pictures steaks marinated and set upon a flaming grill, chilled glasses of chardonnay (I know it isn't the correct wine for steaks, but bear with me), a lovely sunset, long shadows falling across the lawn, dappled sunlight through dancing leaves, birds singing, squirrels scampering off to their tree homes, and the day almost complete. Ah, there's a summer evening. But not for me.
No, for me the summer of hot, humid weather, mosquitos, and deer flies, the swatting and jumping around that comes with it, the 100 degrees in the shade and the bird droppings all over the patio furniture, the squirrels leaving nuts shells on me porch so when you walk out there it crunches and digs into bare feet, and finally, he heady smell of Vicks Vapor Rub, THAT is the smell of summer for yours truly!
As I was grilling those luscious steaks for the 4th of July, me eyes began to tear and me nose began to run and there was this god-awful smell I was catching in the summer air. For the life of me, it smelled familiar but it was nagging at the back of me mind. It wasn't a summer smell, no, no, not at all. I couldn't put me finger on it. I stood there sniffing the air until the Dragon-in-law walked passed me I took a giant whiff and oh my God, call me Sally, but I nearly keeled over in a dead faint.
Seems the Dragon read somewhere that applying great gobs of Vicks upon one's person was a deterrent to the mosquito population. Yup, and yes she did. She had come out and plunked herself down in one of the wicker chairs I had scrubbed clean of bird dip, had her glass of chardonnay (her idea to have chilled white with red meat), and was sitting there in relative ease awaiting dinner. I began to notice the presence of the smell of Vicks permeating the air and probably the steaks.
It was almost intolerable, but I kept me nose in me wine glass inhaling the spirits (which were making me woozy) when I noticed the Airport sitting on the porch floor where he had been collecting nut shells and putting them in a toy dump truck (well, I had no time to sweep, I knew neither Tonya or the Dragon would do it, and I had to have it done so . . . child labour I know, so skin me, he thought it was a game), when he started sniffing the air, his little blond eyebrows drawn in a line of "WHAT'S THAT?" across his little precious face. And in true Airport fashion, he says in that booming voice, "WHATZ DAT SMELL?"
Oh boy, there you did it, I thought. I gulped down me wine to keep from answering. The Dragon casually looked over and said, "Steaks O'Hare, that's what grilling steaks smells like."
"Uh no not dat. It smells yucky." The lad offered never one to be put off track. No, he was focused and that was that. You couldn't persuade him differently, he knew better, he wasn't born yesterday, and the kid was on it.
"Well, I don't know what you smell," the Dragon said ignoring him with that and going back to sipping her chardonnay.
Not to be outdone, he looked at her for a long hard minute, the scowl deepening.
"Itz YOU! Ya smell funny," he emphasised this with a pointed finger in her direction.
"Really Gabriel, you should discipline your children better, and teach them manners," she grumbled while taking another hearty sip of wine.
Somehow it was me fault the Vicks she dowsed herself with was a disturbing odour to a 4-year-old. I don't know why I question it, everything I do is wrong or me fault, so why should this be any different? I muttered under me breath, "Poor bugs. Can't imagine one lighting on her wearing a layer of that pungent-smelling goo and the poor little bug getting trapped in it. Death by asphyxiation and with Vicks of all things in the middle of the summer!"
"What was that Gabriel? You say something?" She asked me coming up for air, yes Vicks coated air at that.
"I was just saying how I hear the price of those mosquito gadgets are high and wish I could afford one." And I meant that, yes I did, preferable to inhaling Vicks!
Tonya came out with her freshly made green garden salad, yes all those veggies from her garden had borne fruit and she had fixed us salad number 568. Oh, goody and I did notice me ears are growing and I think I'm sprouting a tail, I do seem to hop when I walk. Anyway, she wasn't three feet out the door when she stopped dead in her tracks sniffing the air. Her mother was looking up at her with slits for eyes.
"Tonya it's the Vicks. So don't say anything," she waved her fingers in dismissal of the subject. "It will serve you all right when I go inside unscathed and the rest of you full of bug bites."
Tonya said not a word, she put down the salad and tried to sip her wine, then I noticed she too had the wine glass as did I, sealed around her mouth and nose, so she, like me, was inhaling the wine spirits. I watched her as her eyes started to cross and she had to come up for air. She took a slight breath, held it and walked quickly passed her mother and inside.
When next she reappeared, the wine glass was not being worn like a gas mask, she was smiling and . . . she smelled of Eau du Vicks! Her philosophy was if you can't beat them, join them. She had slathered on the Vicks too! I was becoming outnumbered.
"Ewww . . . dat smell is strrr -- onggg . . ." the Airport said holding his wee nose and batting the air.
She turned on her heel, I thought to maybe go rinse the powerful stuff off, but no, she came out with the Vicks jar.
"Come ere' O'Hare," she said, and silly boyo went right to her. She started to rub the stuff on his bare arms as I stood there horrified and he made all sorts of weird faces at the smell of himself.
"Serves him right," the Dragon muttered into her wine glass.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"If you wear this stuff, you don't smell it," Tonya answered.
"Oh get out with you. I sure as hell would still smell it," I said flipping the steaks. She offered me the open jar and I was repelled by it and adamantly shook me head NO.
Well, we got through dinner, it all tasted the same, like Vicks! I didn't enjoy any of it. I thought, nor did any mosquitos, the humans all had Vicks on and well they probably tasted like that too. I couldn't take it anymore and we were all full to the brim from our Vicks-tainted feast, so I suggested we have the cake the Dragon brought with her, later nearer to bedtime. My mission was to get them all to the shower and eat cake without Vicks being present.
I got me wish, it was near nine at night and the wee children were sleepy, but O'Hare being a true sugar-holic, wanted cake. Tonya knew if she waited too long, he'd get a sugar high going and be up for another four hours of fun and kiddie games. So having bathed the children, and herself, she told her Mam cake was being served in 30. The Dragon taking her cue, took a long leisurely shower of her own, before returning to the couch 50 minutes later to wait for the serving of the cake and tea.
I went out to put the kettle on, as Tonya got the dishes down, the children chattered around us. Dragon had moved her large royal self from couch to table with more energy than I have seen since our Amazing Race episode. When it comes to cake the Dragon is always right there for the first BIG slice.
Unfortunately, tea does not brew like coffee. You don't get that savoury aroma, instead, you get the smell of nicotine. Yes, nicotine. As Tonya took the huge white cake with the coloured sprinkles on top of shooting fireworks, the pungent aroma of nicotine wafted through the kitchen. Now, ours is a non-smoking home, we have gone as green as we can, and as health-conscious as we know how, so the smell of cigarettes is highly unusual in our abode. We all sniffed the air, right from the oldest among us (the Dragon-in-law) to the youngest.
We looked at each other and around the room. I started laughing it was so sublime. First Vicks, which was horrible enough, now the sickening smell of cigarettes that none of us have the habit of. Before O'Hare could say, "Whatz dat smell?" I leaned down to the cake box. Yup there it was, the box was smelling like it had been smoked. Not the sweet smell of tobacco, no, no, smoked tobacco, ashtray smell.
"Where did you get this cake?" I asked Dragon.
"At that local bakery down off 101," she replied taking a whiff of the box and crinkling her nose at the result.
I took the box and threw it out on the porch. But the smell persisted. I leaned down with Tonya and we took a whiff of the cake and we both almost gagged. The cake smelled of nicotine.
"CUT ME A PIECE NOW!" Demanded the Airport.
And always being Grandma, the good witch, the Dragon cut him a hefty piece of nicotine cake lickety-split. I watched almost in slow motion as this occurred. I was stunned and I started to put my hand out before he could reach it, but I missed and the cake went careening to the floor, my fingers full of icing. I instinctually did what anyone would and jammed them in my mouth, and oh my God in heaven! The taste was like I was eating cigarettes straight out of the ashtray, I was near to turning a nice shade of green I am sure. I choked, and both women started pounding me on the back, but the icing went slowly down my throat and I could feel it land in a soft lump in the pit of me stomach. Me brain was screaming, "NOOO!"
I don't know how long I was out of it. I was on a nicotine cloud I am sure. I haven't been around nicotine since I was in me mid-twenties, so it's been a while (yeah I know I be admitting to being in me thirties, so go get the calculator), and I can say I be certainly not used to the effects. It was like smoking a cigar for the first time, I literally turned green, me stomach did flip-flops and I was down for the count. It took me three days to recover. First the Vicks then the nicotine. It was like nature had it out for me. I wasn't allowed to enjoy summer, no I was to have a sucky summer at that.
To end this tale of woe, the Airport put up a hissy fit to end all hissy fits when Tonya took the cake and threw it in the bin. He was mad he was, he had been denied DESSERT and you don't do that to my son. No, you do not, and you'll pay for it until you buy him a whole cake of his own. And don't you know the Dragon did just that? She came in with another cake (thankfully from a bakery where the pastry staff don't smoke) and she announced the cake was O'Hare's. We all (except Grandma, who was his favourite person in "da whole worl") had to beg for a piece.
I tell ya, that woman is more trouble than she's worth. Wait until I tell you how I'm spending me vacation time. Here's a hint, I be camping in New Jersey.
Gabe
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