Saturday, March 20, 2010

Why I Don't Eat Shrimp

Warning: pictures on this post may not be suitable for the squeamish. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Me and my best friend, the wood splitter. 
Since I have Crohn's Disease, I have hollowed out a log I can sit on  when I'm "having a bout." We call it the Splitter Shitter.

I have big muscles because I can hurl chunks of wood around with one arm, which gives whole new meaning to the phrase 'hurling chunks.'

Two years ago we had a load of logs delivered. Just today I finally finished splitting that load. Today. We still have enough wood for the better part of a winter season. Still, we have to keep ahead... wood, like soup, needs seasoning. So we had another load of logs delivered a while ago. There's Dave, chopping up the blocks with his new Stihl. See all those logs behind him? I'll still be splitting those babies two years from now. 
Bet you don't know what you'll be doing two years from now...

Put your breakfast down, Betty, here comes the yucky part. That there white thing hiding in the wood is a grub. Fat, white, gray and disgusting, I call these things wood shrimp. They hide in the groady logs waiting for me to split them open so they can fall freely onto the floor of the splitter, startling me and making me want to throw up. I invariably squeal like a girl whenever one of these plumb beauties falls in front of me.

This is why I don't eat shrimp. I wouldn't even kiss you if you recently had a shrimp in your mouth. Does this in any way look appetizing? 
Mmmmm, add some cocktail sauce and dip in. Puree it in a blender and add it to cream cheese. Steam a few and toss them into your pasta. 
Oh yeah, baby, now we're talking.

Do you like quinoa? How about rice? Or tapioca?  
This nest of sleepy ants and larvae/eggs/whatever fell out of the very last block of wood I split from two years ago. 
Gag me seriously blind.

All done for the day. Only another two years of splitting and our work here will be done. 
Now it's time for a back and neck massage, a shoulder massage, a hot bath and some mouthwash and a mind erase
 to get rid of the images of those hideous insects. 
To all you friday flashers who like to write horror I say split some wood with me and you'll know the true meaning of the word.

6 comments:

  1. Gross, and also kind of cool in a ten-year-old boy way. That's a lot of wood to spilt.

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  2. Where's the axes? Where's the hatchets? What kind of fancy operation you runnin' there? Why I remember when I had to watch my dad and brother split logs and chop wood from the kitchen window while I did the dishes! Those were the days - we were tough! Log splitter, sheesh. And your grubs and ants? Pffft, those things put hair on your chest - eat 'em up - YUM. Sissy.

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  3. I used to dig up the grubs while gardening, and would leave them in the bird feeder for my friends. Otherwise, the skunks and 'coons would dig up my Nepean lawn! Those were the days. Good for you for splitting wood. We ordered some, which was not particularly small, and it was serendipitous that I have to split it. On days, when my back is good, it is good therapy!

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  4. That's a big wood splitter you got there, missus! Glad that you're having fun in your work. I'm a sissy and will stick with my electric heat. After reading of your grubs and ant larvae I've opted on skipping the Chinese dinner tonight...

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  5. Don,t you have any birds to eat those grubs? They love them. I guess if we were starving, they might be delic. How come you,re not done yet? What seems to be the problem? I thought of ciming over to-day, but it,s sunday, the day of rest. Our hydro was out for 3 hrs. so I went out
































    7 &and housecleaned the outhouse.

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  6. Ewwww. I'm glad I didn't 'borrow' your logs! And not because of the insects. Now they are cut, split and ready to load into the back of my vehicle!

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