Ahhh! September, September, oh beautiful September. If winter wasn't heading up the rear I think I'd love September. Warm days, cool nights...huge harvest moon in the sky. Essex County, which is where my hometown is located, is one of Canada's biggest agricultural areas. So we have the strawberry festival, the blueberry, tomato and corn festivals. We have the Harrow fair and the Leamington fair. And in September we have the Shores of Erie Wine Festival. All of these are wonderful.
Along with September comes people fixing up their gardens, closing swimming pools, cleaning sheds, etc. It's also the beginning of the migration and hibernation activities of birds and animals. Being out in the county, overlooking a golf course, this becomes a very 'interesting' time. Today would be a classic example.
It was a beautiful, cool September day today, nice and breezy, no pollution. It was the kind of day people open all of their windows so they can air out their house and get fresh air inside.
My neighbour across the street decided that today of all days would be the day he would take down his old shed and replace it. Little did good ol' Jim realize that directly under the floor of his shed was a home of skunks. Now, for those of you who may not know this, skunks do not like to have their sleep disrupted let alone have their home destroyed during that sleep.
We neighbours heard Jim and his dog howling when the disgruntled skunks sprayed them to show their displeasure.
Within seconds of the howling, the wind decided to gust. That perfume called Eau de skunk wafted into every household within a mile radius. Including ours. To make matters worse, the skunk clan decided to move across the highway in front of our house and while enroute they managed to get run over by a truck.
Did I mention that when skunks get killed they spray?
Over eighteen hours have passed and I now own stock in Nilodor, but the odour is gone. Somewhat. One of my neighbours cleaned up the remains of the skunks and took them away. All of us agree that he will forever be our hero.
Jim and his dog are still in the garage, soaking in tomato juice together. His wife and children have banished the two of them to garage until further notice.
I hate September.