So there I was

with a wet beret on my head, listening to my elderly dog gnaw on a giant beef knuckle. And I do mean gnaw. And gnaw and gnaw and gnaw.

No Individual Walks tonight - I was lazy and went to Kroger for grapefruit and pudding instead. I was briefly overwhelmed by guilt, but I've moved beyond it. Okay - the guilt actually forced me to share a big pan of little smoked breakfast sausages with them, but then I moved beyond it.

Speaking of sausages, I cooked them in the kitchen. And every time I walked into the kitchen, I was encountering a very odd smell. Bad veggies, I thought. But where? Given the canine situation here, we don't keep a whole lot of food on the counters.

I'm not much of a housekeeper, but I do pay enough attention that I'd be aware if there was a rotting potato on the floor. And it wasn't the dishwasher. I was perplexed. And a wee bit disgusted. The only object in the general stench vicinity is a wicker basket full of garlic.

It sure doesn't seem to go bad in the open air. But the smell seemed to be coming from that area. So I looked...and I moved some garlic...

Do you know that if you buy limes for a cocktail party in the late summer, then bury five of them under garlic in a wicker basket, they'll pretty much petrify? But even if they're petrified, after several months they do grow a bit of an odor...

Sorry, no pics.

So the limes are in the trash, and I feel as if I've accomplished something. We'll call that a win for today.