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.

MUSINGS ON A HOT AFTERNOON

Sometimes you're really mean, Jon.

I should be. I was taught by masters.

People who know me well, know that my bark is worse than my bite. Sometimes. 
I actually prefer to purr - - but occasionally a bark is necessary.
WOOF! 

Major Tennessee heat wave has arrived. Accompanied by humidity. 90 degrees outside (Fahrenheit). 475 degrees in the house. The luxury of having central air is gone. I now have three ceiling fans and two floor fans.

There were two window air conditioners here when I purchased the place, but I removed them because they're so ugly and cumbersome. One of them weighed about three tons. 

Flashback Summer Photo:

 Keansburg, New Jersey, 1918

The woman on the right is my maternal grandmother Anna. The other two women were friends. 

Flashback Summer Photo:

 Me in a Bakelite pool. That pool was bright yellow and had a blue fish pattern on the bottom. Hopefully the wire hovering above me was for hanging clothes - and not electrically charged.

I remember that day vividly because I was stung by a wasp. The wasp was skimming the water and I foolishly reached out to touch it.

My paternal grandfather was there. He took me in the house, removed the stinger, and put Mercurochrome on the wound.

I must have been way under two years old, because my paternal grandfather died when I was two. 

This story coincides with what happened yesterday. After living in the wilderness sting-free for two and a half years, I was stung by a wasp yesterday. I was out on the back porch and a wasp nabbed me on the right knee. I was wearing shorts.

I only wear shorts at home, never in public. I don't want to scare anyone. I haven't looked good in shorts since I was two or three.

 We've seen that photo many times before, Jon.

Well, you're seeing it again.

I don't have any current cheesecake photos of myself.

The wasps are making nests everywhere around here. I counted eleven of them this morning.

One nest was under the swing on the front porch. I sat out there one evening and the wasps kept attacking me. I pulverized the nest today.

 Scruffy is feeling better and ventured out on the front porch today.

 Scratch (Kitzee) this afternoon, trying to beat the heat.

 I'm presently reading Lawrence of Arabia by Jeremy Wilson. If you can get past the excruciating introduction, you're home free. Only 1180 pages to go.

I keep this volume by my bedside at night. I could easily use it to kill an intruder. 

FEAR

"The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself....."

.....and spiders, and wasps, and bees, and......


In my previous blog post I listed some of the narrow escapes and harrowing experiences I've had during my tumultuous existence. The restraints of time and space prevented me from mentioning all of them, but I think I gave a reasonable sample.

I also mentioned that, at this point in my life, I'm nearly immuned to fear. It takes a heckuva lot to scare me. Besides the ravages of old age and impending death, there are only two things left that fill me with undiluted fear:

Spiders and scorpions.

When I lived in Texas, scorpions were everywhere. I found them in my shoes, on my clothes. There was a huge one on a towel that I was going to use after washing my hair. One night, just as I was about to turn out the light and go to sleep, a scorpion was lurking on the headboard of my bed. I would wear my boots all night long, for fear of stepping on one.

My terror of spiders has been a lifelong obsession. I hadn't seen very many spiders here in the mountains (of course not - - it was winter). The other night, however, I happened to go outside via the back door. As I was coming back in, I suddenly noticed two big spiders on the door that I previously hadn't seen.

After I was safely inside again (or reasonably safe), I Googled poisonous spiders of Tennessee and spent the duration of the evening scaring myself witless while reading Internet arachnid horror stories. Brown Recluse infestations, vicious spider bites, deadly infections, horrifying amputations......

Holy crap - - I was suddenly having flashbacks of  childhood stories about Miss Muffet on her tuffet, innocently eating curds and whey. 
What the hell are curds and whey, anyway? For that matter, what is a "tuffet"??

Is is too late to get to the point of this blog post?


Probably, Jon, but you can give it a shot.

I have recently - temporarily - retired my fear of scorpions and spiders, in favor of bees and wasps.
With the arrival of spring, my place is becoming infested. Bees and wasps of every conceivable denomination are nesting (or attempting to nest) on my front and back porches. They are so aggressive and intimidating that I can no longer go outside.

carpenter bee in flight

Thanks to the help of two people who left comments on my blog, I was able to identify the dreaded carpenter bees - - who are drilling enough holes in the porch wood to make it look like Swiss cheese.
This is all new to me. In Texas my house was made of brick and I didn't have wooden decks.

Holes in wood made by nesting carpenter bees

(this is not my photo - I got it from the Internet) 

Since I presently have absolutely no defense against the onslaught, I plan to drive into town tomorrow and stock up on insecticides, wood putty, paint, varnish. Oh yea - -and fly swats.

It's obvious that none of the wood on my porches or decks have ever been painted or treated with anything, and the bees love the natural wood.

Yesterday I clobbered a monstrous carpenter bee with a mop and he went down like the Hindenburg.

Oh, the humanity........!!

Later, when I opened the front door, an angry bee immediately came in and I chased it around the living room for twenty minutes. It also chased me around the room. Since I had no weapons at my disposal, I finally managed to kill him with an empty pizza box (I kid you not). It wasn't easy.

While in my Internet quest to find ways of eliminating bees and wasps, I came across some of those "environmentally friendly" websites that suggest ways of gentle elimination without pesticides.
Talk to the bees. Develop a friendly rapport. Plant posies away from your house to gently distract them. Build them a wooden guest house.

Hey, here's a flash:

I'm not an environmentally-friendly type person. I don't want to save the Madagascar Doo Doo Bird. I don't give a rat's ass about saving the planet. I'm not "green". And I'm not "natural".

You're not "natural", Jon? Hey, we already knew that.

I'm gonna get the most potent pesticides I can find and blast all those buzzing son-of-a-bitches right into the far side of the Hereafter. 

Full speed ahead!!!
 


Wow, Jon - - you've just sealed your fate. At this very moment, hundreds of Earth-Friendly people are putting curses on you and scratching you off their "Friends" lists.