Ahhh...Polecats.

My paternal grandfather, born in 1910, was a farmer most of his life and was one of the finest men to ever walk this earth.  To this day, I can not hear Randy Travis’ song “He Walked on Water” without thinking of him.   He left us in 2000 just one month shy to the day of his ninetieth birthday and his passing left a hole never to be filled in our family.

Pa Frazier, as most Southerners from that generation, had a way with words and a few that I distinctly remember consist of his description of a skunk and what it could do for certain upper respiratory ailments. 

Anytime we would pass near an area where one of the odorous creatures had recently been Pa would usually declare, “Ahhh…polecat…clears up the sinuses", to which we would giggle while wrinkling up our noses.

Well, as he was about most things in life, Pa was correct in his philosophy of skunks, too.  I have had some sort of a terrible head cold for the past couple weeks which has temporarily disabled my sense of smell.  Yesterday, however, it was momentarily relieved when we all  arrived at church to find that a skunk had somehow made its way under the foundation.  

Ahhh….polecats.

 

P.S.  I also learned yesterday via our preacher that in days long past people would sometimes use the grease from a cooked skunk as a chest salve for croup and such.  Okay, now that really does make me wrinkle my nose.