ROUNDUP, MY ASS!

First of all - before I launch into my post-Memorial Day rant - I want to thank the kind people who left comments on my previous post Death of a Soldier.
I wrote that essay long ago and have been posting it on my blog every Memorial Day for the past decade (almost).


It's one of my personal favorite "literary" efforts. Ironically, it is always the least-read post on my blog.

Okay, take a deep breath. We're going into Rant Mode. 

 morning

So how did I spend my Memorial Day weekend?

Wait a minute, Jon. Why did you change to a larger font?

So that you can actually READ this fricking post. I'm tired of visiting blogs that offer 10,000 word diatribes with a microscopic font. It assaults my eyes and pisses me off. When I write something, I want you to actually see it.  

We see it, Jon.

My Memorial Day weekend can be summed up in a few words: heat, wasps, weeds, spiders, mice, cats. Did I mention weeds?

Thanks to the perpetual rain (it rains here about 360 days a year) the weeds have assumed Twilight Zone dimensions. They are now nearly as tall as myself (I'm 6'1" without my boots) and far more obstinate (than myself). They have completely engulfed my house and are threatening to consume it.

The last time I was in town somebody suggested "Use Roundup on your weeds".
(Roundup is a popular weed killer here in the U.S.- - for those of you in the Hebrides).

Roundup, my ass!! (hence the title)

Hey, I'm in a forest, surrounded by wilderness acres. My weeds have taken on H.G.Wells proportions, with Amazon animosity (I'm not talking online shopping Amazon - - I'm talking jungle rain forest Amazon).

Roundup is for warts on potted petunias. I need plows and teams of horses, heavy trackers (as opposed to light ones), sickles, machetes, and Divine Intervention from God Almighty.

I've lately been spraying the weeds with a wicked mixture of bleach and salt.

And the first one of you prissy-pansy environmentalists who tells me I'm destroying the environment is going to  get a liberal shot of the bleach mixture right up your (you fill in the blank).

I used "liberal" just to annoy you.
You think Donald Trump is outspoken?
Just thank your booties that I'M not running for President. I'd make Trump look like Shirley Temple.

 a jungle jumble of weeds

Today I braved the humidity and jungle bugs to attack the weeds with a humongous pair of shears. 
I keep the shears outside and - just as I was about to pick them up - I saw a HUGE black spider on them. Having to kill it only intensified my misery.

Spiders and wasps are everywhere. The wasps are extremely aggressive and chase me as soon as I step outside. They wait by the door. The spiders pop up unexpectedly and scare the living Jeeters out of me.

I was in my bedroom late last night, reading (Russian history, in case you're curious). Suddenly -
I looked at the window and saw a huge black spider creeping in (must have been the other black spider's big brother).

Yes, I do have screens on my windows. But spiders ignore them.

I jumped up (not an easy task with my bad back) and ran outside on the back porch to get the bug spray (I accidentally left it out there).

By the time I got back to the bedroom - let's all say it together -
THE SPIDER WAS GONE!!!

I looked everywhere, and then looked everywhere again. Where the hell did it go?? It probably crawled into my bed and is waiting there for me to go to sleep, so it can nest in my hair.  

About half an hour later (I'm still in a terrified sweat over the awol spider) my cat Scruffy runs in carrying a mouse by the tail. Holy shit! 

She drops the mouse and it quickly takes shelter behind a big chest of drawers.

I'm on my hands and knees, trying to coax the mouse out - while still glancing around everywhere in fear of the spider. While my back is still hurting.

After the passing duration of a delightful hour, I finally manage to trap the mouse in a cardboard mailing cylinder that I happened to have.

 mouse in cylinder

The mouse looked so cute that I didn't have the heart to kill him (I'm a sweetheart). I ventured outside at 3:00 am and dumped the hapless rodent in a nearby field.
He'll probably return to the house, but what the hell.  

And that, my friends, is only a fraction of what I did on Memorial Day weekend.

WELCOME TO AUTUMN

 I took this photo last autumn when I first moved here, at the Sgt. York State Historical Site

First full day of autumn! My favorite season. Superb time of year, perfect weather. Golden sunshine and temperature in the 70's. The trees look weary and withered, shrugging listlessly in gentle breezes and slowly shedding leaves. The foliage hasn't yet assumed brilliant autumn colors, but the green has faded - replaced by pale yellow.

A favorite time of year for insects of all denominations. Fields and forest are busy havens for bees & butterflies, wasps, dragonflies, & spiders. Spider webs are everywhere in unexpected places. I had a very rude encounter with one today.

Let's preface this by saying that vanity inspires me to wear contact lenses much of the time, but when I'm home alone I sometimes wear my glasses. Heck, there's nobody around to see me but my cats, the 'possum who resides under my porch, and the coyotes. And possibly Bigfoot.

Today I'm outside, stumbling through the unlevel terrain, wearing my glasses. In a vulnerable moment, while I'm squinting from the sun, I collide with an alarmingly large spider web. As I'm desperately trying to disengage myself from its unwholesome snare, I suddenly notice that my vision is obstructed.

My eyes instinctively cross to see what's on my face. It's a spider on the bridge of my glasses, straddling my nose!

Holy Geezuz!!

I yank the glasses from my face, frantically shaking them with such force that the spider launches into space like a Frisbee and crash-lands somewhere in the weeds.

I'm trembling like a pansy in a zephyr. When I regain my senses I realize it could have been worse. If I wasn't wearing my glasses the damn spider would have probably gone into my mouth. 

Pansy? Zephyr??
Hey, I thought it was quite poetic. 

I'm still trying to fix my lawnmower, which has no desire to start. It's nearly new. I only used it one time in Texas before I moved. Methinks something went awry during the transit to Tennessee. The movers delivered it without a handle!! I kid you not. Some bastard removed the handle and didn't replace it. I had to order a new one.

The weeds on my property are now about 20 feet high and I can only hope that an early freeze will eradicate them. I can't afford to buy a new mower. And I sure as hell don't have a scythe.

I'll never buy another Briggs & Stratton.
Ironically, my father had a Briggs & Stratton mower that lasted for twenty years. Mine lasted two days.

Drastic change of subject

So tell us, Jon - 
why the heck did you write your previous blog post ? Venice, gondoliers, unrequited love, ambiguous sexuality,.....what's the deal with excavating ancient history?

My present image is that of a being an old rural hick in Tennessee. Every now and again I like to establish the fact that I was once a young city hick in Hollywood (*smile*)


I've had an unusually colorful past and - - to be uncharacteristically brash and blunt - - I occasionally like to brag about it. What I reveal in my blog is merely a condensation, a paltry fraction.

Perhaps I yearn for the past simply because I've fallen so far from it.

I was once young and desirable - my life brimmed with adventure and fascinating things that most people have never experienced.

Now I'm a dilapidated country hermit, stumbling through weeds with spiders on my nose.

Life's ironies are a bitch.






My photo blog:

http://cabinetofcurioustreasures.blogspot.com