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Jun. 3rd, 2013 04:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickJust because I don't mention something for rather a while does not mean I have stopped doing stuff about it. Sometimes I am still working on a project, or, perhaps, my loyal minions, bacteria, are working on the project for me.
The beaver (legs and skull and two vertebrae, which was all that was left after the horrible ribcage theft incident) has been quietly decomposing in a lidded plastic bucket of water. Said water has been changed as and when I felt up to dealing with the absolutely horrific smell of rotting flesh, which sticks to ones hands and is probably the substance that the word "redolent" was invented for. But anyway, I've been busy playing horse here of late and haven't attended to the bucket of beaver for a while. It's a white drywall paste bucket, so three and a half gallons or so, but more importantly, a very slightly translucently-white so that you can see if there's anything inside... like maybe suspiciously wine-colored water and random beaver remains that you have ignored for several weeks including a week of high-eighties daytime temperatures.
I poured out the wine-colored water (redolent. scent still sticking to my hands even after a round of citrus-flavor GoJo industrial hand cleaner) and looked at the bones. Pretty much we're down to bones, here. Yay! The rest of what was there (excepting some very tenacious ligaments) dissolved into the water, coloring it like a fine burgundy. (Did not smell like a fine burgundy.) Okay. Time for fresh air and sunshine.
The smell of dead things eventually goes away. If it did not, we would live in a world that smelled like zombies LOOK LIKE they smell. I am of the opinion that fresh air and sunshine is what makes the smell of dead go away, so I have put the bones (there are a metric shit-ton of Very Small Bone Pieces in beaver feet. I'm just sayin'.) on a piece of window screening, up off the ground on a pair of 4x4 boards and then covered that with a sheet of hardware cloth weighted down with three concrete blocks so that hopefully nothing can get in it and steal the damn bones which have no meat on them at all now anyway. And that's in the middle of my tomato plants, in a fenced area. Here's hoping nothing steals the damn bones which are now hopefully going to bleach to pristine and UNSCENTED whiteness in the fresh air and sunshine.
Eric may have bones by August, after all. I'm off to scrub my hands again. Ew.
In other news, there's a rosebush in Bedford that I envy. I would like one for my very own. I wonder if they would notice me cutting off a small piece to try to root. (Plant is antique, not patented.)
The beaver (legs and skull and two vertebrae, which was all that was left after the horrible ribcage theft incident) has been quietly decomposing in a lidded plastic bucket of water. Said water has been changed as and when I felt up to dealing with the absolutely horrific smell of rotting flesh, which sticks to ones hands and is probably the substance that the word "redolent" was invented for. But anyway, I've been busy playing horse here of late and haven't attended to the bucket of beaver for a while. It's a white drywall paste bucket, so three and a half gallons or so, but more importantly, a very slightly translucently-white so that you can see if there's anything inside... like maybe suspiciously wine-colored water and random beaver remains that you have ignored for several weeks including a week of high-eighties daytime temperatures.
I poured out the wine-colored water (redolent. scent still sticking to my hands even after a round of citrus-flavor GoJo industrial hand cleaner) and looked at the bones. Pretty much we're down to bones, here. Yay! The rest of what was there (excepting some very tenacious ligaments) dissolved into the water, coloring it like a fine burgundy. (Did not smell like a fine burgundy.) Okay. Time for fresh air and sunshine.
The smell of dead things eventually goes away. If it did not, we would live in a world that smelled like zombies LOOK LIKE they smell. I am of the opinion that fresh air and sunshine is what makes the smell of dead go away, so I have put the bones (there are a metric shit-ton of Very Small Bone Pieces in beaver feet. I'm just sayin'.) on a piece of window screening, up off the ground on a pair of 4x4 boards and then covered that with a sheet of hardware cloth weighted down with three concrete blocks so that hopefully nothing can get in it and steal the damn bones which have no meat on them at all now anyway. And that's in the middle of my tomato plants, in a fenced area. Here's hoping nothing steals the damn bones which are now hopefully going to bleach to pristine and UNSCENTED whiteness in the fresh air and sunshine.
Eric may have bones by August, after all. I'm off to scrub my hands again. Ew.
In other news, there's a rosebush in Bedford that I envy. I would like one for my very own. I wonder if they would notice me cutting off a small piece to try to root. (Plant is antique, not patented.)
