CHAOS ON THE MOUNTAIN

So, how are things going out there in the wilderness, Jon?

I'll make it short and sweet. I have problems up to my ears. I'm inundated with unpleasant situations. On a scale from one to ten - ten being no problems at all - I'm teetering around minus 152.

I thought that life on a mountain in the proverbial middle of nowhere would be simple and carefree. My Disneyesque naivety has turned vicious and is biting me on the ass.


Anyone remember The Willows by Algernon Blackwood? - - that haunting novella about two men trapped in the vortex of the unforgiving wilderness, slowly being devoured by unseen entities of nature?

Although I'm not in those Hungarian regions of the Danube - - I am experiencing the same uneasy (horrifying?) feeling here in the Tennessee mountains.

 My back yard

The birds, the wildlife, the insects....

....the bugs...an untold multitude of bugs......moths, beetles, spiders, gnats, ticks, flies, bees, wasps - - unknown winged creatures that haunt my nights and plague my days.......

I've finally eliminated the 40 (no lie) nests that the carpenter bees made in my wooden porches. And now the wasps have arrived.....by the hundreds....

Yesterday, as soon as I stepped outside, three wasps attached themselves to my clothes. I shrieked, then stripped faster than a Chippendale dancer. Ripped off my T shirt. Peeled off my jeans (no easy task, with the high boots that I wear to discourage the ticks). Didn't get stung.

One of numerous lizards

that resides near my back porch

(hopefully he'll eat plenty of bugs)

Moisture, anyone?
It rains here every day. It's like a Peruvian rain forest. Or South Vietnam during the monsoon.

Gunfire?
My distant neighbor - the mysterious someone who owns the cow meadow adjacent to my property - kept shooting a rifle all day Saturday. Very close to my house. I didn't dare go outside. I won't venture a guess as to the reason for the gunfire.

Late Sunday afternoon.
It cooled down, from 95 degrees to 92, so I decided to resume painting my back porch (I already finished the front porch). 
A horrendous thunderstorm blew in with a torrential downpour and wicked lightning. I said to hell with it and continued painting.

my front yard

 Don't go away. I saved the best for last.

Yesterday, early evening. I'm exhausted, so I laid down in bed. Fell fast asleep. Was dreaming.

The ringing phone woke me up. It's pitch dark, no lights on in the house. I stumble out to the kitchen, still half-asleep, puzzled by the sound of rushing water. I turn on a light. The kitchen is flooded. Water is pouring from two hoses connected to (or near?) the water heater (the water heater is in an area adjacent to the kitchen). The water is hot. Steamy.

In a groggy panic, I call my cousin Nancy because I figure she's the one who just called me (she was). I'm babbling, incoherent. I tell her I'm flooded. I have to go outside and turn off the main water valve.

The valve, of course, is unnervingly far away. It's extremely dark. I'm barefooted and shirtless - maneuvering blindly through tall, wet grass and tangled weeds (places where I'm afraid to tread in daylight, with boots on).

Note: I should mention that I was wearing beachwalkers, but it was so wet and muddy that the mud sucked the shoes off my feet!

I'm on my hands and knees, clawing through thick mud and weeds, trying to locate the friggin' water meter. Insects are biting me everywhere. I'm drenched in sweat. I hear the howls of nearby coyotes (I'm not kidding). Finally, finally I find the damn thing and manage to shut it off.

By the time I get back to the house I feel extremely faint and near cardiac arrest. I call my cousin (she's already in her car, on her way) and tell her not to come. I'm still incoherent.

One of my cats (Scruffy, of course) managed to escape from the house during the excitement. She ran off into the woods and was gone for over an hour. 

I took an aspirin, tried to catch my breath, went out searching for Scruffy. I finally found her, soaking wet but fine.

I spent the duration of the night cleaning up the water.

Discovered that the busted hoses had been carelessly repaired with duck tape (!!) by the previous owners of this place (thanks a lot, morons.....).

Wish me luck in trying to get a plumber to come out here in the boonies. I sure as hell will need it. 

 A deer, just after dark, near the back porch. I didn't use the camera flash because I didn't want to scare it.

Update: the plumber can't come until the middle of next week.