My Stink, My Dog, and My Pinterest Dreams

A few weeks ago I was convinced that something was wrong with me. No matter where I went or what I did, I kept smelling fish. 

So, I bathed. Put on freshly laundered clothing. Deodorant. Hand cream.

But, curiously, the smell faintly prevailed.

I asked my husband to sniff me.

"What? he asked."Have you lost your mind?" 

But he took a deep sniff at my collar anyway and said he didn't smell anything but my Oil of Olay.

The next day as I was folding laundry, I smelled it again. I sniffed the clothes. Fish.

Then I laughed. I realized that that the past few mornings I had slipped my fish oil capsule in my pocket so I could take it once my coffee cooled off. Of course that never happened. My sweater or jeans simply went into the wash and covered the entire load in a perfume of nasty Nemo. I had to wash several loads of clothes again with heavy duty stain and odor fighters and a double dose of fabric softener.

Who knew vitamins could be so dangerous?

***************

My dog is a nerd.There. I said it.

All dogs have personality. They are just like kids. If my dog were human he would be a cross between Barney Fife and The Professor. He would wear a bow tie and eat caviar and read algebra books for fun.

Not that he's smart. He's just weird. 

And spoiled. If you don't cut his food up for him, he refuses to eat, he doesn't really like when we have company, barely tolerates other dogs, and sleeps a lot. I guess I've always known those facts. And regardless, I do love him. But being cooped up for ten days in the cabin with him just magnified his quirks. 

Yet, I'm sure he left there thinking differently of me also. 

***********

I know we are supposed to be thinking of the Pilgrims and stuff right about now, but all I can think of is what the heck I'm going to cook next week on Thanksgiving.

I have pinned 459 recipes on Pinterest. How many have I actually tried? Zero.

But I slobber and drool and gain weight just by looking at the beautiful photos and presentations.

Could I possibly pull off a delicious, organized and memorable dinner on Thanksgiving?

 Could I really make that mushroom cranberry stuffing?

Baste my turkey a perfect shade of gold?

Whip up  potatoes and gravy without lumps?

Make a pie that doesn't sag, drip, sink or burn?

Perfect my napkin folding, centerpiece design and knowledge of wine choices?

Nog the eggs correctly, fantasize the fudge, and make my husband brag for days- and even years -to come about the year I finally succeeded in doing it all right?

Naaawwwwww.

 So, Cracker Barrel it is then!