Just Smelling the Potatoes

Well another weekend has gone, but it's been an interesting one. Note the word, interesting, rather than exciting.

We didn't really do an awful lot. Miss. D wasn't feeling very well and hadn't been most of the week, Miss. L had her heart set on hibernating for the weekend, and I was still under the weather with the germs the teachers kindly shared with me the previous week. Suffice to say, the weekend was mostly spent indoors.


Dr. BD was coming over in the afternoon, and the cupboards were somewhat bare, so Miss. L and I made our journey out of the house in search of supplies. We armed ourselves with shopping bags and set out into the big wide world, first setting our trusty steed free from its stable.

Okay, we actually just grabbed the shopping bags, got the car out of the garage and drove to Lidl; not in the least bit exciting. Although, there is something a little exciting about shopping at Lidl or Aldi, because you never know what you're going to find from one week to the next; will it be power tools, plastic food containers, skiwear or irons.

Anyway, having promised Miss. L that no this wouldn't be a big shop, I really only needed a few bits for dinner and the packed lunch bits for the week, I proceed to fill a large trolley. Oh well, at least I won't need to worry about shopping for another couple of weeks or so.

We got home and started unpacking everything (is it just me who loathes having to put the shopping away). Miss. L was very helpful she unpacked most of the bags and popped everything on the side for me to put away, so whilst she was still doing that I started on one of the other bags. It smelt funny, and not in a good way, but I couldn't work out why, so just put it down to the cold I have and forgot all about it.

Miss. D and I spent the rest of the day watching Christmas Movies on Channel 5 (you know the ones where you don't recognise any of the cast and they're super cheesy). It was a lovely afternoon spent snuggled up on the sofa with my eldest. Later Dr. BD came round and we cooked dinner together before sitting down to watch a dramatised documentary I'd recorded earlier in the week about Freddie Mercury. If you didn't catch it, it was really interesting, though there were some terrible wigs in it, which made us laugh, which was probably a little inappropriate.

I didn't think about the smell again until Sunday evening when I started preparing dinner, much to the amusement of my guest, Martyn (of Inside Martyn's Thoughts). You wouldn't think that a task as dull as peeling potatoes could be amusing, but apparently it is. To be fair, I probably would have found it amusing to watch too. You see, the smell was back. I couldn't work out what it was, or where it was coming from, but I was pretty sure it was the potatoes; so I did what any normal person would do, rather than look through the bag of spuds, I started smelling the ones I had taken out to peel. According to Martyn, and the rest of Twitterland (yes, it was tweet worthy) this is not what a normal person would do. Anyway, I carried on peeling, and occasionally dropping my potatoes into the peelings before I found it, the offending spud. It had gone beyond rotten and was happily decomposing in amongst my nice healthy potatoes.

Needless to say, the little blighter and its immediate neighbours found themselves in the food composting bin and I got back to getting dinner cooked, safe in the knowledge there would be no more strange smells emanating from my potato stock.

So, there you have it, I really was just smelling the potatoes, though I don't intend to make a habit of it.