Photo by Jon
The first day of autumn - my favorite time of year has officially begun. I'm delighted. Even though it's hot. Hotter than a jalapeno burrito in Hades (I just made that up).
It's 90 degrees today (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in the Belgian Congo). This is the kind of hot autumn weather I thought I escaped when I left California. And Texas. It has followed me here to the wilds of Tennessee.
But relief is in sight! Cooler weather is predicted by next week. And in another month or so I'll be bitching about the cold.
Actually, these are perfectly glorious days. The shadows are longer. Dusk comes soon - especially in the secluded huddle of these looming forests and cozy hills. Nature is surging with frantic activity. There's a surplus of birds, squirrels, 'possums, deer, and other critters. And insects.
Bees, wasps, butterflies, dragonflies, spiders. Every kind of spider you could imagine, and many you wouldn't want to imagine. I stepped outside this morning to savor the first day of fall and was immediately snared in a gigantic spider web. It wasn't merely big - it had H.G.Wells proportions.
I was forced to go inside - wash my face, arms, and chest (I had ventured outside shirtless). Then I shampooed my mustache. No lie.
When I summoned enough courage to venture out again, I brought my El Cheapo camera to capture the day for posterity. Here's a much smaller web that glistened with dampness in the morning light.
And here's my cat Bosco surveying the situation (the web is north of his head)
My back yard is on the edge of a forest and it takes awhile for the morning sun to emerge from the trees.
And as the sun was emerging, the now-half Harvest Moon was lingering in the west. This looks very similar to a daytime moon photo I took a few weeks ago.
My car can be seen in the lower right corner of this photo (below).
I have no doubt the excitement is overwhelming you.
I'll give you time to catch your breath.
If you want real excitement, you should have been here the other night. I had thrown a few dirty clothes into the washing machine over a week ago and forgot about them.
Late one night I suddenly remembered them. I lifted the lid of the washer to peek inside. The clothes were there BUT - out of the corner of my eye - one of the socks moved! Slightly.
Or was it merely my imagination?
I slammed the lid shut...and didn't really want to look again. I'd never seen clothes moving by themselves in a washer before. Hell, they couldn't be that dirty....
I armed myself with a flashlight and lifted the lid again. I poked the sock. It moved again!
I quickly removed all the clothes in the washer except the sock. Then...I cautiously lifted the sock...
and there was a tiny mouse!!
Holy Shee-it! How the hell did it get in there??
I didn't really want to know, but I surmised that it got in through the agitator mechanism.
"Agitator" - not a student protester, but rather the intricate part of a washing machine of which I know nothing about.
In a rare and merciful act of kindness, I took the mouse outside far from the house and tossed him near the cow field.
There were mouse droppings on the clothes that were in the washer. I threw them all in the trash: two socks, a pair of underwear, an old flannel shirt.
Then I thoroughly scrubbed the interior of the washing machine with bleach and other disinfectants.
Lesson learned? I'll never leave dirty clothes in a washer again. Not unless I wash them.
And where the hell are my three cats when I need them?
Probably sleeping.
Here's my eldest cat Scratch this afternoon:
My critter worries aren't over. I still hear animals scampering over my roof every night. And it sure ain't Santa with his reindeer.
A fair warning before I begin. The subject matter of this post is going to be disgusting. I would advise not to read it if you're eating......
Now that I have your attention, I'll begin.
Saturday night I was plagued with my usual insomnia. Ate some leftovers at midnight. Watched a few YouTube videos. Messed around with my computer. Brushed my eldest cat Scratch. Made sure the cats had clean water and fresh food.
As usual, I'm making a short story into a lengthy one. Please bear with me.
My habit lately has been to go to bed around 3:00 a.m. and read until dawn. I have a lot of new books to read. Blogger Ron from Retired in Delaware recently (and very generously) sent me a large collection of books about Hollywood that he no longer wants. I'm presently reading several of those books simultaneously.
Before I delved into Ron's books tonight, I grabbed an old history book of mine because I've been doing some research on ancient Babylon.
None of this has to do with my horror story, but it's a good buildup. Hang on....and whatever you do...don't eat....
Okay, here we go:
3:15 a.m.
I'm propped up in bed with my book. It's a warm, stuffy night. My bedroom window is wide open and the morning mountain fog is already obscuring the forest. An owl is whoo-hooing in the distance.
I have been transported to the great city of Babylon and am immersed in the reign of Nebuchadnezzar. I can almost see the spectacular city and the hear the rush of the nearby Euphrates River.
I can almost smell the Euphrates river.
Well, hell, I have a good imagination.
Funny, the river doesn't smell very good. In fact it smells rotten. Really rotten.
Actually, when I first settled into bed and began reading I smelled something rotten but tried to ignore it. Soon the smell couldn't be ignored.
Is it me? Do I smell rotten?
Is it the sheets on the bed?
Is it the book?
The Babylon book I'm reading had been in the garage for awhile. Maybe it's moldy.
I'm very reluctant to face the reality of what I really think. This smell isn't rotten - it's putrid. very putrid. Dead and decomposing putrid. And it's extremely nearby.
I try to ignore it one more time, but I can't. It's horrifyingly real. And it is definitely dead.
Perhaps there's a dead animal outside, nearby. I get up and go to the window. The air is damp and fresh.
The putrid smell of death is coming from some place around my bed. I'm starting to slightly panic.
I thoroughly check the pillows and covers while I'm having a nasty flashback.
When I first moved here, the cats killed a mouse and put it in my bed. My apprehension of going to bed has been intense ever since.
My bed is situated about a foot away from the wall. That's where the stench is coming from. I force myself to look in the space between my bed and the wall.....
.....and there it is - a big dead decomposing mouse. Right by the head of the bed. To say I felt sick would be an understatement.
It's not easy to extract the rancid rodent from it's temporary tomb. I use a broom and a dustpan. I then put on my boots and take the odious thing outside and toss it far away from the house, somewhere in the forest. I'm not in the mood to prepare a fancy burial.
Back in the bedroom - I use carpet cleaner, an ammonia spray, and a pesticide spray (just in case). The room no longer smells rancid, but it now smells like absolute hell from the cleansing mixtures. I'll do more cleaning tomorrow.
It's presently after 5:30 a.m. and daylight has arrived. I'm not exactly in the mood to go back to bed, even though I'm tired.
I just checked the room again and there's no odor at all......so.....I might crawl into bed and try to get some shuteye.
I took a helluva long time to tell a short tale (tail?) of a dead mouse, but unnecessary mileage with extended detours is my specialty.
It's over. Now you can eat.
