Onions...Onions...Onions...

It's that time of year again when I can't step outside without being assaulted with the smell of onions. Layton is prime onion growing land. In fact, the city got its name because Mr. Layton put up a big sign saying, "LAYTON" on it so the trains would stop at the right place on the tracks to pick up his onions. The former fields where our school was built used to be onion fields. We are surrounded by growing onions. It happens to be harvest time. Huge trucks filled with onions drive up and down the streets all day. Hence, the onion smell. A few years ago I had to confiscate a huge onion from a student who had picked one up off the road and brought it to school. I know some PTA moms who have been known to wait on the corner where the trucks turn. They pick up the huge onions to put in the salsa they can. I usually don't mind the smell of the onions. It lets me know fall is here. I crave soup. the only time I really minded the smell was when I was first pregnant with the twins. It wasn't pretty. Onion soup anyone?!?