Our newest automobile, A-Cad, the GMC Acadia, kept his new car smell for about two years. I blame it recently fading out to the continued driving of Farmer H.
A different smell accosted me on the way to town Monday in T-Hoe. An old deer smell. Due to a deer carcass (in a ditch) that is not being eaten fast enough by the turkey buzzards. I first noticed that deer a few days ago. I suppose it was fresh then, since there was no odor.
According to Farmer H, you can pick up a roadkill deer to harvest the meat. Knowing Farmer H sometimes stretches the truth, I checked on it online. Looks like you can, as long as you get a form from the Missouri Department of Conservation.
I suppose whoever hit this deer got the Not-Heaven out of there, leaving their deer behind. I would never even consider harvesting a deer that I didn't see killed right then. I'm pretty sure you have to get the innards out within a reasonable amount of time (especially in the 90 degree heat we've been having) before it taints the meat.
Not that I blame the driver. Deer are always leaping about along this road, more willy-nilly than eleven lords a-leaping around Christmas time. People can get killed by a deer smashing through the windshield, depending on the speed of the car, and the size/location of the deer. I'm pretty sure that driver would have known the deer was done-for, though. Because it barely made it off the blacktop. They were probably shaken up, and just wanted to leave the area. That's no crime.
Anyhoo...now that deer's bloated carcass has to decompose. It's not like we have a department that scrapes up roadkill. On the highway, maybe, to prevent accidents. But not on all the rural roads. Nature must take its course, and those nutrients return to the soil, and fuel smaller wildlife.
While this happens, I have to decide how to deal with the pungent gases of decay as I drive by. Even though T-Hoe's air conditioner is set on recirculate, it still pulls in some air from outside. Otherwise, I'd die from lack of oxygen, from re-breathing my own exhalations for an extended time. My plan was to shut off the air entirely along that stretch of road. Because I didn't want the tainted air to recirculate once it got sucked in.
Mrs. Hillbilly Mom plans, T-Hoe laughs. There seems to be an electrical short in T-Hoe's dashboard systems. Sometimes, the radio does not come on when I start him up. Then it starts playing on its own about 5 minutes into the drive. Lately, the recirculate button, which used to turn off every time the ignition was turned off, stays on all the time. But doesn't always recirculate unless you punch it off and on several times.
Well. Nearing the late deer on Monday afternoon, I pushed in the AUTO button to turn off the air conditioner completely. That should have meant that I'd need to push the air conditioner button itself to start it up again. But no. That darn button wouldn't go off.
I might have been able to jack up the temperature control buttons (one for the driver, one for the passenger side) from 68 degrees to 90, to assure that the system shut down. But I didn't think I had time to do that, what with paying attention to driving along the curvy blacktop road.
So I just drove on by, breathing through my mouth, knowing full well what I was inhaling, even though I didn't smell it. Once I got past, to the top of the hill, I cracked the driver's window and the diagonal back passenger window, to pull fresh air through. Then I closed the windows, and let that fresher air recirculate again.
Hillbilly Mom problems.