Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Sick Musings

   I'm really, really curious about something. Is there any reason why the folks who make cough syrup can't make it taste any less toxic? And who came up with the brilliant combo of "cherry menthol"?  Why not "earthworm dung peppermint"?  Or "rotting leaves bubble gum"?  The stuff is just disgusting and the flavor actually lingers forever in your mouth. It envelops the tongue with its poisonous goo, which allows small amounts to seep down the throat with each swallow.  Maybe that's the goal to help quell the coughing, but I'm feeling like I'd rather cough than endure this heinous assault of my taste buds.  The taste also induces immediate nausea.  I'd like to talk to these cough medicine developers and give them a piece of my mind. If we're sick, then why kick us when we're down? We need to feel better when we take the medicine, not worse.  I'm of the opinion that the folks behind the Tussin flavor department are sadistic bastards.  I remember taking a green liquid cough medicine as a kid and that was no better than this cherry garbage. In thirty years they can't improve upon that flavor? I'm not buying it.  They don't WANT to make it taste better.  They chuckle amongst themselves in their little white coats, delighted with the prospect of grossing out millions of poor, coughing victims. I bet they did come up with a nicely flavored cough medicine, but then chose not to market it.  Instead they keep those private batches for themselves, or to give out to special friends and family as Christmas gifts.  It's all a conspiracy against the coughing public.  So in addition to body aches, stuffy head, sneezing, coughing, and blowing my nose, I now have a vile flavor in my mouth that even a cup of strong Irish tea is having trouble erasing.  Four words...I want my Mommy.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Was that really necessary?

   Last week we had a truly epic October snow storm. I was on the verge of committing a crime, or killing myself in the hours before the storm, because I couldn't freaking believe that it was going to SNOW in October.  I walked around the stable in a haze, making sure to avoid direct eye contact with my customers, muttering oaths under my breath and going over a checklist of what needed to be done for storm prep.  It was terrible.  The only thing that briefly cheered me up was a quickie trip to the store for some last minute provisions. NO, I didn't buy milk and bread like all the other dummies.  I bought food, seltzer, vodka and American cheese (from the deli counter, not that gross crap wrapped in cellophane).  The fun was watching my fellow Americans grocery shop like it was the last time they'd ever be allowed in a grocery store. The vibe was positively frantic in there. People were freaking out. The liquor store was a much calmer environment. Drinkers know how to get themselves by.       And it never hurts to have an extra bottle of hooch in the house for emergencies. By the time I got into my car the first flakes of snow had begun to drift down from the sky in a lazy, nonchalant manner.  That changed in about a half hour. The snow became a driving, relentless blizzard that lasted all thru the night. We awoke to a ridiculous scene of mountains of snow piled on the cars, patio furniture, roofs, etc. At least 20 inches dropped at our house.  I really wanted to cry. Or have a screwdriver for breakfast. Wisely, I did neither of those things and waded down to the barn and fed the horses. Because that's what you do when you run a barn. It's like the post office, it doesn't matter what crazy shit weather you're getting you have to do your job. I admit it did help to have to go about the day doing the normal chores in a near lobotomized state, like the old Dunkin Donuts commercial when the guy repeats, "Time to make the donuts" over and over again.

 Enough about that nightmare. The snow has all melted at our house. The leaves are still on the trees, sort of, and it's going to be in the mid sixties this week. Amen.