I am normally a bit oblivious
to many things;
if it doesn’t stink or scream
don’t expect me to notice it
(and even then, it’s got to stink pretty badly
to catch my attention).
But now I find myself
a sudden and unwilling bloodhound—
able to pick up on the tiniest scent
as I walk past the garbage can
or the kitchen sink.
The waft of the compost as I open the lid
hits me like colour—
a slime green wave riding the air
up into my nose.
Smells have become like warning signs
flashing across my vision,
sending me scuttling away in the opposite direction—
a sudden and unwilling bloodhound
lacking all desire to follow the scent
and solve the gruesome mystery
of its origins.
It’s a dog’s life,
early pregnancy,
so you’ll forgive me
if now and then
I throw back my head
and howl!
Just East Of Crazy Land 
It’s a dog’s life, early pregnancy, oh Anna this was me last year…praying for you!!
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Oh, thanks Sophia!! Much appreciated! Xxoxo
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Ugh oh! No mushroom picking for you!! Or at least that was my experience 😉
All that funginess…. 🙃
>
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Ha, no mucking round with slimy brown things for me…however, have been enjoying cleaning up my fall garden which is wild and overgrown!
Are you mushroom picking in France already?! 🤩
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This post made me chuckle and sympathize. I threw out the compost today, it sure had a stench that was lingering for days.
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