Smelly Stuff

G. and I visited Shackleford Banks - home of the wild ponies - a couple of weekends ago. Have you ever traveled out to an island in an open boat in January? What started as a balmy day turned wicked as the Capt. roared his engine just past the no-wake zone out of Harkers Island. The wind cut my face like razors, and my eyes watered frozen tears.

 
Thank goodness for layers, because we peeled a few once we landed on the island, where the weather was indeed pleasant. I'm still amazed that you can enjoyably be on the beach in January.

We found some interesting things. I found a live sand dollar and a whelk casing with tiny critters inside. Unfortunately they were thrown upon the beach too soon and dried there for our beach life edification. Reluctantly I returned the fuzzy gray sand dollar to the water to live out his life.

G. found a lovely lettered olive shell. It was still shiny and retained its pointed crown. He stowed it in his bag, a good find.

I later decided to take a couple of shells to a friend, who does not live at the beach and brought the olive and a couple of others into the house to wash off the sand.

I scrubbed and scrubbed the olive, and the more I scrubbed the stinkier it got. Apparently, the poor thing was still alive when G. found it, and it had died with a vengeance. OMG - it was the worst, and no amount of scrubbing would remove the remains or the smell.

I spent the rest of the morning working with harsh chemicals and radical methods to remove the malicious odor from my hands, sink, counter, and general atmosphere. Also, I threw the olive outside, hoping that in 20 years or so, it might find its way back inside minus the stink.

The moral is: check with the critters first to see if they are ready to give up their lives for the sake of souvenirs... if not, they are going to make a big stink about it.