It was a beautiful day. It was too cold, but it was beautiful. After a week of rain and snow and gray and snow white skies, it was nice to see the blue sky, even if it was too cold.
The Mister and I were alone and we had breakfast out, and went to the bookshop, and he got some new kicks, and he asked me if there was anywhere else I wanted to go, and I said, “Yes, actually. Just across Allisonville Road is Penzey’s Spices,” and he did drive me there. I ASKED him to.
Over breakfast, we had talked about how I have an aversion to thyme. I always forget this, because I don’t cook with it and it’s not something I encounter often. You know how I’m always like, “I’m a foodie, I eat all the foods?” Well, I don’t like thyme. I don’t mean l won’t consume a dash in a soup or a sauce, I mean anything with thyme in it would taste better without it. My mother made thyme chicken once, at least 25 years ago, and I have not forgotten. It was awful. I don’t wanna smell it, I don’t wanna taste it, I don’t want to think about it. Writing this makes me think about it and I kinda wanna hork. I can actually envision my mother that day. Happy to see me home, me walkin in all
“Oh God, what the hell happened? What is that smell?”
It did NOT taste good. No likey thyme. No no no.
Ick. Thyme. And I had thought, “Where could we go that my husband could smell the thyme and I would not have to?” The spice place.
Also, Marian is always goin on about Penzey’s and her instapot and I drive by the Penzey’s all the time. I had lovely ideas about sniffing lavender… maybe buy some groovy Marian kinda spice blend, kick my fish up a notch, fancy peppercorn. Dreams.
I am dumb. I walked in, acted like I don’t have the nose of a bloodhound, started sniffin and sniffin and about three jars in, I got into somethin with a lot of curry. ALAWT. I mean CURRRRREH. My sinuses aflame, my throat all choked. And then the sneezing. Guess what else was in the thing with all the curry? Pepper. So I pretty much sneezed my way to the ladies and blew and blew and blew. And thus, the sniffing ended. Too picy for Joeys.
I have a good nose. *SIGH*
But hey, I detect gas leaks, so it’s not for nothin.
Anyway, much like candle shops and perfumeries, I should be brief and shop with intent.
The Mister smelled thyme and he said, “That’s fuckin gross.” I love him so much.
Have you smelled Mexican vanilla?!? Do that.
Okay, so doors.
Oh wait, those are windows. Lookee blue skies!
#ThursdayDoors is part of an inspired post series run by Norm Frampton. To see other doors of interest, or to share your own, click the link and find the frog.