High ho, high ho, it's off to pour we go!

First of all, I'd like to thank the makers of the McCordick Workhorse NIOSH OV G01 respirator mask, for making today's post possible, and for ensuring that my breakfast stayed firmly in my stomach. I bet NIOSH never guessed that someone would be using a mask approved by them to facilitate the pouring off of the rank contents of a jar filled with rotting animal head, covered in water.

This sucker is AMAZING. The first time I tried it on, I was pissed off because I could hardly breathe and couldn't understand why a respirator mask would cause suffocation. After all, we paid almost forty bucks for this thing.

Then, after nearly passing out, I realized the protective plastic insert was still inside the part that covers your nose and mouth. Ahem.

Well, I am middle-aged, after all! I removed the plastic and lo and behold, I could breathe again. No worries, it was probably oxygen deprivation in early life that gave me the supernatural powers that enable me to soak severed heads in jars.*

This respirator is so good I may don it when I have to clean litterboxes during Gordon's occasional work-related travels. I have no problems viewing gross things, but smelling them is a whole other kettle of rotting dead animal parts. It's difficult for me to clean up pet vomit without vomiting myself. I would have made a horrible mother.

And for those requesting them, and you know who you are, I refuse to post photos of the contents of the jar. Even Knatolee has standards! But when the skull is all clean, I will take a shot of that. Cool your jets, because you'll have to wait a few more weeks.

But back to the task at hand. The pouring off went fine. First I dug a hole in the dirt pile near the barn. Then, clad in surgical gloves, old clothes and my mask, I held the head in the jar with a stick as I poured the rancid liquid into the ground. All I could smell was the scent of the Escents Aromatherapy Headache Relief Roll-on I had smeared under my nostrils, just a little insurance in case the mask failed me in its filtering capabilities. Instead of inhaling death, I was soothed by fragrant notes of peppermint and lavender.

(I got totally hooked on Escents products while living in BC. Check them out!)

I have to say, it's a good thing we live on a farm and the neighbours can't see us. There I was, behind the barn, wearing a mask and gloves, burying something mysterious in the ground. Very suspicious if you're in suburbia. Not so much in a rural area!

I was proud of myself for completing my task and forced Gordon to take photos of me. I went a little heavy on the "thumbs-up" though...

"Why yes, Tristan, I am a FREAKING AWESOME vile liquid pourer-offer. I am woman. Hear me stink!"

"Yes, yes, I know I look like an alien in this thing, but Daddy is trying to take photos, so sit and stay!"

"Okay Mummy, if we have to. But why are your thumbs up?"

"Because I am FREAKING AWESOME, dude and dudette!"


And then they broke their sit-stay...

"Ooooh! MUMMY! You smell good! You smell like peppermint and lavender and just a hint of dead thing. Can we lick your mask? Why are you wearing a mask? Take off the mask so we can lick your face! Oh, this is so exciting! Can we go find you another severed head?!"

"Okay, Mummy. I don't care about the mask. Just so long as I can still lean on you and get some cuddles."


The saga of the severed -head-in-a-jar will continue at a future date...


----------

*Footnote:
*What's your excuse, Nature Boy?


----------

PS: Don't ask me what that plastic cupola thing behind me is. It came with the house. I think it's just ornamental but we like it, so we keep it!