A few months ago, I mentioned something to Nick about hanging sheets outside to dry because I love the way they smell. He turned his nose up, looked at me like I'm crazy (this was a different look than the one he usually gives me when he looks at me like I'm crazy) and didn't really say anything. The subject didn't come up again until yesterday. I washed sheets, hung them outside in the hot hot hot Bakersfield sun, then got ready to bring them in a few hours later. I got them down, smelled them and just about gagged. I took them in the house, stuck a piece of a sheet in Nick's face and asked him if it smelled funny to him. "Just dirt and sun," he said. Then it dawned on me. Lesson #374 on Living in Bakersfield: Sheets dried outside in the desert of California are not going to smell the same as sheets dried outside in the hills of Pennsylvania.
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