Monday 17 August 2015

A Blessing and a Curse

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I think I wrote about waking up one morning and smelling burnt toast. Normally that would be a good thing, but since I couldn’t move I thought that I had had a stroke. They say that if you smell burnt toast it could be an indication that you have had a stroke. I lay there wondering how my life was about to change and testing to see what kind of mobility I had left. I couldn’t move my right arm or leg and the same for my left side. I bit the inside of each cheek and felt pain so I knew that I wasn’t totally paralysed. I had a long day ahead of me because Louise was at work and I was pretty sure that the day had just begun for most folks. Life sure does toss you some curves.

Well, as you may or may not know, I didn’t have a stroke. I was just all twisted up in my bed sheets. I was so relieved!!!! I felt a little stupid, but I DIDN’T HAVE A STROKE!!!!
For the last week or so I have been smelling dirty socks every where I go. I thought just what you are thinking, “Ken…change your socks.” It is summer and I have been wearing socks rather infrequently, but just to cover all of the bases I tossed the socks in the wash. I suppose that it could be my sockless feet that I was smelling, so I made an extra effort to keep them as clean as possible. Still, I could smell that dirty sock smell.

I have made it a point in my life not to put my nose into any shoes if at all possible. Shoes are after all the things that cause feet to sweat and thus to smell. I had checked everything else so I had to check my shoes. Now, although I can’t say they were like a mountain meadow filled with wild flowers, my shoes just weren’t too bad. I crossed the shoes off of the list.

We only have one carpet and it had the smell of carpet. I didn’t get too close because the grand-bulldog, Lola visited us for a week or so and that big old girl is one massive stink machine. She smells of many, many things, but not dirty socks.
I can only assume that smelling dirty socks must indicate something like smelling burnt toast does. I am at a loss as to what it may be though. It could be an indication that I spend too much time in the company of people who have questionable hygiene. That is entirely possible.
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It might be one of those gifts that special people get from time to time. Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Joan of Arc, Merlin, Leonardo and Rasputin to name a few.  Some can divine water in the ground; some heal the sick, some can make it rain and some can tell the future. Perhaps I have developed the gift of knowing if someone’s feet will smell when they take off their shoes. I don’t think it is as important as being able to make it rain during a drought, curing leprosy or being able to find a missing child, but a gift is a gift.
I would be an invaluable asset at a Japanese restaurant, winnowing out those who would make the dining experience an unpleasant experience. “Please, all must remove their shoes. It is a Japanese tradition. Oh! Not you sir! For you we will make an exception.” I doubt there would be much call for it though.

I just don’t know. I will keep my eyes open and keep smelling, hoping to find what my gift actually means. I hope it is just a blessing, not a blessing and a curse.

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