BIG BAD BITCH OF A SUMMER

This summer is a huge bitch. And it doesn't want to end.

I've lived in Southern California and West Texas - - which means I'm acquainted with agonizing six-month summers. 

When I came to the Tennessee wilderness I was delighted to discover summers that are brief and relatively mild. At least the first three were.

This fourth summer is a combination of the Twilight Zone, Wild Kingdom, and Death Valley Days.

I've endured more misery, horror, and pathos than one humble blog could maintain.

(What exactly is pathos? I threw it in for literary enhancement)

It hasn't rained in three days, which - in this area - probably means a serious drought.
The "brush" on my property has grown so tall from the continuous rain that it exceeds my six-foot-one height and impedes any attempt to drive out (in a vehicle).

I no longer give a rat's royal ass about trying to maintain it.

 My front "yard"

This is the shallow part

Of course, the tall brush attracts critters - which is probably why I had a snake in the house last week (see previous post).

I'm still completely unnerved over that adventure. I keep looking everywhere - thinking I'll find another humongous serpent.

I have squirrels in the roof and 'possums under the house. The critter invasion permanently expels the concept of all those cutsie Disney animal films that I was indoctrinated with as a child.

I'm ready to load my shotgun and annihilate Bambi. 

Did I mention that there was a small bat (yes, bat!) hovering around the kitchen window tonight?

I was making nachos at midnight (one of the advantages of living alone).

Suddenly there was persistent banging on the window.

 I was stunned to see a fluttering bat looking in at me. 

My first thought was Dracula!

My second thought was - he might break the glass.

I pulled down the blinds and turned out the bright light.

Bugs, anyone?

I'm still plagued with gnats (see two previous posts) and when they finally disappear, the Asian beetles will arrive (no, I'm not jesting). Happens every year.

My latest wasp sting (I've now had four this summer) is healing nicely but still itches.
The wasps are building nests everywhere and their aggression knows no bounds. I eliminated three nests this week and noticed a new one being constructed near one of my windows.

Four wasps got in the house yesterday and I was running around in my Fruit of the Looms armed with a gallon (yes, gallon) of bug spray. I managed to kill two of them.

Late last night (about 4:00 a.m.) I was in bed reading, naked (too damn hot to wear clothes), when a wasp came out of nowhere. It zoomed around the reading lamp.
I jumped out of bed and raced around the room, stark naked and armed with a fly swat
(don't try to visualize this - it's immensely unappealing).
Never did find the wasp.

Did I mention the intense heat?
It's been hotter than a tamale in Hades.
The header photo of my cat Kitzee (also known as Scratch) attests to the fact.

Bosco stays in low, cool places, but still enjoys basking near the sun.