Fleas, Skunks and Other Irritants — Linda Knight Seccaspina

Fleas, Skunks and Other Irritants — Linda Knight Seccaspina

I have encountered my fair share of skunks growing up as a child in the Quebec townships. But, last week my husband Steve got sprayed by a skunk in the yard while the sun was coming up. It seems everyone has come to me throughout the years to remedy an immediate crisis.

Like my sons when they were young, my husband came into the bedroom and almost killed me with the stench. I pretended to still be asleep, but believe you me I knew what was cooking in the bedroom, and it wasn’t love. No matter how many Pepe le Pew jokes you make I wondered if I should wash him in tomatoe juice and baking soda as soon as possible.

 Instantly I sat up and asked a very stupid question.

 “Did you REALLY get sprayed by a skunk?” 

Steve replied with a sad tale about the wee critter lifting his little bottom up in front of him. Now my husband is an American from Berkeley, California and one would think the message about skunks had gotten that far west by now.

What to do? What to do?

It’s not like I can tie him up outside for the day, or get the garden hose out and hose him down. 

It reminded me of the year 2006 when a small flea had been found by my son, and he had told everyone it had not been found on the dog– that they were somewhere in the house. After assuming the necessary precautions, nothing else was found. All of us, with the exception of my oldest son, had green lighted everything. The crisis was over as far as we were concerned. At approximately 2:30 am that night a large flashlight was pointed in my face while I was fast asleep. It was flea fighter son number 1 with a look of terror on his face.

“Mom, I have been in here for 10 minutes shining this flashlight on my white socks and I have found two fleas”.

Apparently the white socks were used as bait and displayed whatever he thought was a flea in fine form on the white colour.

“I can’t sleep upstairs,there are fleas everywhere,” he said.

I strongly and silently disagreed with this as we have gone through this many times with other creatures and insects such as bats and spiders. It never fails that when the oldest is not Kosher with something he comes downstairs to his old room where I sleep so he can sleep in his old bed. 

His former room still holds his childhood Bobbleheads, Beanie Babies, hockey posters, and two small pocket mirrors taped to one of his shelves across from his bed. He constructed those mirrors at age 9 as a plan to see if the boogeyman was coming into his room.

“Mom I don’t think anyone realizes how serious this is as no one will own up to the grave problem we have here,” he continued.

I shot him a look that said everything. How could I take anyone seriously that was going to walk around all day in the summer heat in long jogging pants with white socks pulled up almost to the knees and white shoes. Mind you the white shoes were very soft leather fashionable ones from Aldo. But still–no dice kid!

In the morning he cleaned his room for the upteenth time in 24 hours. He vacuumed, he sprayed, he vacuumed again, and then more spray. To appease my child I vacuumed everywhere also and he followed me and sprayed again. In this house that’s a big job and I was sweating like a dog– the same dog who caused this issue who was now relaxing outside on the veranda not worrying about fleas.

After lunch son number 1 yelled information down the stairs each time he thought he had found new alerts about fleas on the internet. Anyone who has been sick and looked up things on the web knows for a fact that you can scare yourself for life with some of those articles. So far, not one flea had been found, but I began to Google “Symptoms of Toxic Brain Freeze from Aerosols” on the internet.

That night Sky came down the stairs dressed in the same outfit as the night before. White shirt tucked into white printed PJ pants, and white socks pulled up to his ankles. I was exhausted from his shenanigans, and so was the dog who was still crashed out on the veranda. With that he wrapped himself up in two sheets much like a mummy with a giant flashlight in one hand and a cell phone in the other. I shook my head and realized that thoughts like fleas jump from man to man– but they really don’t bite everyone. The dog looked at me and nodded his head in agreement.

Epilogue- 18 years later come Spring, when the spiders begin to venture out I get the occasional text photo from my son about the spiders in his basement– and asking if he should sell his home. 

As for Steve I just called him at work this morning and told him his Warrior’s Tshirt didn’t make it no matter how many times we washed it –but he will be allowed to stay as he has now passed the smell test.

Words About Not Smelling Like Teen Spirit….Linda Knight Seccaspina

Words About Not Smelling Like Teen Spirit….Linda Knight Seccaspina

Just about every home in the world had a bottle of “Evening in Paris” somewhere in someone’s bedroom. Once upon a time even the perfume machines in women’s restrooms had them. If you put in a coin and pushed the buttons a big squirt of perfume would come out.  My Grandmother would always get a bottle for a gift when I was a kid and I never heard her say she didn’t like it. 

My Grandfather would take one of us girls to Varins drug store on South Street on Christmas Eve to buy a gift for her. We would come home reeking of many perfumes he had tried on me, but he always bought Evening In Paris as a special gift to win Grammy’s heart with its enticing scent. 

How wonderful I felt when Grammy dabbed the fragrance from that cobalt blue bottle on my wrists and behind my ears before sending me off to school. I also remember when the vial shattered and spilled inside her coat pocket —-you could smell her long before she approached you in the preceding months. 

One of my favourite flowers, Lily of the Valley, grew everywhere and after my Mother died they sent home her belongings in a blue Samsonite suitcase. When I opened it a bottle of her favourite perfume Coty’s Lily of the Valley had broken inside. For years, each time I opened that suitcase, I relived the rare hours spent with my Mother, in the many hospitals she lived in during my childhood before she died. Fragrances made me feel loved. Nothing is more memorable than a smell, sometimes it’s the key to our memories. 

This is exactly where I should pump the brakes in my written journey about scents you remember. Last week I told my 7 year-old granddaughter that when I passed she and her cousin could share my collection of jewellery and hats. She was ecstatic, and then she turned to her mother and said,

“Mum, are they going to smell like Gammy?”

I was shocked and wondered if I had begun to smell musty or bad.

They say when a person approaches old age, they are more likely to start suffering from a distinctive whiff which is often described as a greasy or grassy odour, or ‘old people smell’. I remember going into my grandfather’s bedroom and it always had a certain scent to it. Concerned, I looked it up and they report it’s called– wait for it–Skin Gas. Apparently it’s  2-Nonenal gas, emitted by skin, which is a byproduct of the normal ageing process. Of all the things I thought I’d be thinking of in the new year, this wasn’t one of them. But, last week’s conversation with my granddaughter really made me think about what she was going to remember what Gammy smelled like. Getting to the bottom of it– she just didn’t  care for my perfume. 

Evening in Paris contained “bergamot top notes and middle notes of jasmine, Turkish rose, violet, iris, ylang-ylang, and a hint of peach and woody cedar that gave way to a sensual, powdery base of soft vanilla”. My Miss Dior Blooming Bouquet on the other hand, was supposed to be a  “peony-rose sprinkled with some juicy apricot, an airy floral scent with clean white musk” wrapping it up. The first word that comes to my mind when I wear it is “celestial”– to her I smelled the opposite. 

Trying to evoke my scented nostalgia for her memories would never be possible. Every once in a while a gal gets a yearning for a little powder, roses, and violets.  Now, all I think about is that older people’s skin and smell will contribute to greenhouse gasses.

Things Borrowed from my Grandmother — Human Hair Nets

The Stack Perm or the Disco Wedge ? 1970s Hair Fashion

Can You Still Smell the Fireplace?

 

 

 

The fireplace had its advantages and disadvantages. — – In the homes of the pioneers the chief feature was the fireplace, wide and open to the sky. In those pioneer days they did not have stoves of any sort. At the outside the fireplaces were made of hardwood logs. It often happened that the fireplaces caught fire and endangered the house itself. It was surprising, however, how long a log fireplace made of oak or ironwood lasted. In winter, fires had to be kept going constantly in the fireplaces, or the cold air would come down the chimney and ‘ freeze the house, usually a place of one room.

One man I talked to today had experience with an open fireplace in his boyhood days. He says he has, however, tender recollections of them as on windy days the smoke they emitted used to be blown back into the house nearly suffocating everybody. If the front door was opened to let the smoke out, the draught would blow the sparks from the fireplace over the floor. He said he could still smell that fireplace smoke yet. The fireplaces, despite their drawbacks, served a good purpose and many a fine and tasty meal has been cooked in them. Fireplace cooking may be a lost skill, but it’s one you can regain with a little practice.

 

 

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun and theSherbrooke Record and and Screamin’ Mamas (USA

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place. Tales of Almonte and Arnprior Then and Now.

The Deserted Fireplace at Watson’s Corners

The Fireplace Ghost on Highway 7

The Wizard from Lanark Highlands