There are things on camp that I love doing. Hiking. Swimming. Canoing. Gravy. Cleaning up a giant barrel of water which has been vomitted into, then left for a week. Or two. And there may have been a piece of shit or two. Plus some trash. And flies.
Fortunately, the smell was totally bearable. Seriously.
If you can call vomit, gravy, poop, fly poop, and poop all mixed into a soup that had turned black bearable.
Which you can't. By the by.
Anyway, we slowly moved it to a ditch (spilling on ourselves, eliciting giggles from the crowd of onlookers and gags from Colin and I) and then put a trash bag on top of the barrel to use as a filter to catch the trash when we dumped it over.
The smell didn't improve when we poured it out. It just spread out.
Seven hours later, we still have the smell on our hands. And by we, I mean me because I'm not a little girl who washes his hands/arms forty times.
Good story.
No comments:
Post a Comment