Skunks and Bombe's

Skunks

My house still reeks of skunk. It actually has for a while because my newest addition, Damndelion seems to love skunks. To death. So I have one skunk from a few weeks ago hanging out in a more prominent place than most people would find acceptable, but doesn't seem to bother anyone in the family. Of course we have a snake, so we move mice out of the way to get to the beef in the freezer, and when our guinea pig died in the dead of winter, we also put him in the freezer til we could break ground. Dead things don't bother me so much.

However, this skunk smell is newer. From yesterday. Damndelion got a hold of a young skunk and went nuts. I mean completely lost his mind, playing with it like he would with a rope toy. It was in his yard and that would NOT do. Tyr was smart. The second he smelled what was going on he let himself into the house...bringing with him a wave of extremely fresh and close stench. That's when we discovered the rope-toy game. Damdelion screamed, dropped the skunk and began rolling on the ground--I assume he was sprayed yet again, but there was blood now, so it was my turn. I watched to see if it was dead (hoping, really), but the damn thing stood up and ran at D. So, I found my weapon of choice and went to do the deed. I pulled the dog away, who was like "I'M NOT DONE WITH THAT!!!!" So I grabbed his collar and held him back while I fired. First shot was a kill--I was remarkably calm. Second was for assurance. The kids had been escorted to another place in the house, far from the goings on, so I had no worries about trauma.

And because I am NOT right in the head, I put the dead skunk on a fencepost as a warning to all the other skunks to just leave us alone. I think his much larger comrade will be joining him as soon as he thaws from my deck rail.

Now I have blue hair and I reek of skunk.

Bombes

Or more specifically, bombe glacee. Ice cream bomb that I'm inflicting on my daughter's second grade class. It's culture week, and one of the cultures was France, so I chose it, being that I know more about that than anything else (except my growing knowledge and obsession with Norway, but that wasn't on the list). I am gluten free (not that's its anyone's biz, but it's because gluten was killing me in one of the most painful ways you can imagine). I really didn't want to make gluten free crepes, and I refuse to make gf beignets, because the gumminess is what it's all about.

My favorite part of ALL of this ice cream bliss is a mother-daughter moment I had with my mom. It went like this:

Me: I have zero idea what to make that isn't a full meal, or a pastry.

My mom (Memere): You could make a bombe glacee. They're called that because they look like bombs; you put the ice cream in a mould, and layer it, so when you cut through it, you get a slice with pretty layers.

Me (to CoyoteCurls): Would you like that?

CoyoteCurls: YES YES YES THAT WOULD BE AWESOME!!!!!!!!

Memere (to CoyoteCurls): And you can tell your teacher YOUR MOM IS BRINGING A BOMB TO SCHOOL!!!!

Me: OH MY GOD MOM NO!!!!!

The kicker? My mother has her masters in education, and was in every level of education from substitute teacher through assistant superintendent. Is it no wonder I have small frozen animals in my freezer on occasion?

Anyway, wisely the teacher put us at the end of the day so the sugared-up kids will finish their sugar...er...ice cream bombs and head home.

And Now I'm Cold

And I have to be up early, and a lot of whining here that I will spare anyone who is reading this. I will post more creative stuff some day when I'm not overcome by sugar and skunk.

Thanks for reading!! If you ever want to leave a comment, by all means do so. I will read them, I just likely won't publish them because comments get out of hand fast.