Summer and I sat down on the porch sofa when I returned from taking her mother to work and somehow one of us leaned right and the other left and we have been snoozing. It is a long sofa, but not that long, so old legs and young legs entangled and in moments of partial rousing, vied for space.

My head hurts so I am up, having sought out fast-acting aspirin,  regular Coke mixed with Diet C,  plus a wee bit of tylenol. In other words: The Cure Plus. Although I think at the moment I could do with a smidgen of Miss Mamie’s and Miss Emily’s father’s Recipe.

In the kitchen, I caught a stronger whiff of skunk and zeroed in on Sydney’s collar; I had not stressed during the bathing to take it OUTSIDE. I have sniffed some porch things and they are iffy, including Courage Bear, on whom Sydney buried his head on coming in after the event. My mother and aunt told the story that once when their mother had some old carriage robes that had been skunked, she consulted her Uncle Ed Olney, an old-timer and son of homesteaders about what to do. He said, “Burn them.”

UPDATE UPDATE: We just sniffed Spikey and, well, she’s sitting in the sun now as well.