It’s bloody hot. My hair is frizzy, I remain trapped in a permanent state of hot flashes. The only antidote to my condition would be a nice dip in a swimming pool, and of course, I don’t have one (see the previous blog) ☹
Gump is driving me batty now he’s home all of the time. Even Scout, the wonder dog is getting on my last nerve with her constant demands of playing, walking, and scratching her tummy – why should I? No one ever offers to scratch mine.
I am a hormonal timebomb, I can actually hear myself ticking, and when I look around the house I feel as though I have the eye of Sauron, (Lord of the Rings) a laser eye, which wants to burn anything I stare at long enough.
Other than that, I’m doing great…….
So here we all are in 2020, struggling through a year of:
4.Masks on/Masks off
5.Hating China because of the pandemic
6.Liking China because shit happens
7.Hating Russia because Putin is a sociopath
8.Liking Russia because they have sexy accents
9.Shopping as normal because the pandemic is a hoax
10.Not leaving the house because you don’t want to get sick and die
11.Liking Dr. Fauci because he’s a smart guy
12.Hating Dr. Fauci because he’s the antichrist and is in a relationship with Bill Gates
13.Being scared you have contracted Covid
14.Being more scared because you can’t afford the damn test
15.Worrying about your job
16.Not worrying anymore because you don’t have a job
17.Using Facebook to discuss all the above instead of posting pictures of cute bunnies
And I could continue, but I’m already depressing you, aren’t I? Good grief, is it any wonder everyone feels a little stressed out? How unfamiliar our world is at the moment. From the safety of our homes, we peek out at life and quickly duck back inside. No wonder-we are only human after all. Except for Gump, I am convinced he is from another planet. One where brains are slightly smaller.
It started with the snake.
I went out into the garage early one morning to take the dog out to the yard. There, on the mat by the back door was a snake. I screamed, the snake slithered away to hide. Gump did not run to my aid, as I yelled about what I had seen he grunted, and promptly went back to sleep…….Later, Gump finally went out to the garage to take a look and the snake disappeared (surprise). But, ever my hero, knowing I have to regularly go through the garage to take Princess Scout out for a ‘you know what’ (no fenced yard), Gump promised to ensure the garage was snake-free. His method? He left the garage door open all day…..why hadn’t I thought of that?
The next morning, at dawn o’clock, I went into the garage and whaddyaknow….there was Mr. Slinky, waiting to say hi, in exactly the same spot as the morning before. We looked at one another and both disappeared…me inside the house…him who knows where. I was not happy. I calmly told Gump he would have to empty the garage (it was rather cluttered)- and that would flush him out.
Plan #1 – Gump took the blower, and blew around the garage. We thought it might scare Slinky out, or frighten him enough that he would do a slide for it as soon as our backs were turned.
Gump just knew he was finally gone.
I did not believe he was gone. Perhaps it was intuition, but I felt as though there was something lingering out there watching me whenever I stepped out of the house. I mentioned my concerns to Gump, and then I mentioned them again. This ‘discussion’ continued for several more days. I should comment here that Gump was not eating bonbons and watching soap operas, he was busy working on projects…..HIS projects, and snake catching was apparently not on top of the list.
So, day 6, our buddy was there giving me the eye again. I gave Gump a new priority – I suggested he find a lawyer, because it was the snake, or me – one of us was leaving.
Day 7, Plan #2 – Gump started emptying the garage and was not happy about it as this task was not on the ‘to do’ list. About halfway through, he spotted Mr. Slinky hiding between two pieces of wood, clever reptile! The good news was he was not a venomous snake. The bad news was he measured about 4 ½ feet long and his circumference was about the size of an egg….gulp.
Plan #3 – Armed with a picker-upper which he got after a hip replacement; Gump went on the offensive. The plan — Gump would grab the snake and put it in an empty trash can (I suggested a pillowcase) –
Gump got him in the picker-upper, and then promptly dropped the damn snake! Mr. Slinky started doing the slither and Gump was flailing like a windmill. I grabbed a broom and whilst squeaking loudly, managed to push the snake into the trash can, which we then taped closed. Gump jumped on his four-wheeler, trash can in hand, and relocated Mr. Slinky down to a creek, leaving me to contemplate how much I miss living in England.
Now we have a bird nesting in the garage. There are three eggs, so Gump insists we leave the big garage door open all day, so the parent can fly off and do whatever they need to do. Then at night, when we close the garage door, Gump has a box fan blowing so the bird doesn’t get too hot…. I asked him what birds normally do to stay cool when they are outside in 99-degree heat?
And, not to be outdone, Harvey the turtle, has reared his scaly head and is back in town. Every morning Gump cuts up a tomato, or some lettuce, and rushes out to take care of his little darling. But will he make me a piece of toast? Hell no!
And finally, the last of the livestock, Scout the wonder dog, is officially a teenager. She is currently in a condition that makes her homebound, or she might get preggo by some amorous mutt. This is proving to be stressful as she is used to hanging at the Dog Park every night. I never thought I would miss going to that place, but I do. If I have to throw the damn ball one more time, I think I am going to scream. Gump says she’s going to want to start going out at night and party with her friends. Again, I contemplate how much I miss England…..Enough of the wildlife….
Meanwhile, at Debtwood……I took my car to the shop as the rear hatch door would never open when I touched the little button on the hatchback part, usually with my arms full of groceries. This has driven me nuts. Reluctantly, I made an appointment at the dealership-Gumpless. What a hassle. After months of staying home and looking like a homeless person, I got out early (with make-up). After going to the wrong place, I finally ended up where I was supposed to be. I got all checked in, went through what was happening. They pulled my car into the bay. Three minutes later, the service guy came back to me. There was nothing wrong with the vehicle. It was all operator error – I was pushing the close button the entire time. The open button was in another place…..that was fun and not at all embarrassing.
Are you starting to see why I am grumpy?
But everything improved when I got to go to a writer’s retreat with four dear friends, at a place a couple of hours away. I was in writer’s heaven! No Gump, no dog, no cooking, no snakes, turtles, or bird’s nests. It was magical.
I came home early. I was really strapped for time as we had out of town guests coming for dinner. Once I arrived at the house, both Gump and I were full-on busy, so I didn’t look at my phone at all until everyone had gone home and I had done the dishes – around 10:30pm. When I did, I was aghast. One of the girls at the retreat (who had driven a long way) had been stuck because she could not find her car keys anywhere. They had texted because they wondered if I had seen the keys before I’d headed for home. I felt bad that I had not seen the messages earlier, so I replied that I had not seen the keys and apologized profusely for the delay in my response.
And then I looked down at my purse and wondered why my keys looked different than normal? Dear god, I had them the entire time. While I was busy cooking for my company, the rest of the retreat gang had spent their entire afternoon digging through the rental house for my buddy’s keys instead of writing and relaxing…..in the end, her husband had made the long drive to give my friend her spare set……and I had them all along…..gad, I felt terrible!
On the16th – we called to wish our grandson, Oscar, a happy first birthday. Only his birthday is on the 17th. Can you believe what awful grandparents me and the Gumpster are? We both had it written down wrong. Thank goodness Oscar doesn’t understand a calendar!
Gump is in tomato-land. He has put his engineering masterpiece of netting up over the garden to protect the plump, red darlings from greedy beaks, raccoons, possums, and squirrels. Every day he skips down to the garden with Scout, the wonder dog nipping at his heels, to pick his blushing babies. He has cucumbers for the very first time now too. These trophies are also carried like fragile delicacies into the house to be admired and fawned upon. Gump is in his element, while I pine for the potatoes so cruelly denied. If I have to make another damned BLT for him, I might shoot him. I don’t even eat the blasted things, but Gump is a summer vegetable addict. His excitement of harvesting what he grows is very irritating. His capacity to be made happy knows no bounds if he can eat a bloody BLT while watching the Expanse Sci-fi show (even though he’s seen each episode three times already)…
Like I said…I am having issues. It might be time to start drinking again….
Well, sorry for all the whining and complaining. It certainly made me feel better. I hope all of you out there are doing okay and that your loved ones are well. Please stay as safe as you can. A HUGE thanks to any of the readers who still are going to work every day, making sure the rest of us are able to keep our lives going. Thanks to all the medical folk, and all the people out there that are busting their butts, even though they would rather be at home in seclusion.
Lastly, I have to say a massive thank-you to all the wonderful people who not only bought my book but read it, gave me a review, and/or contacted me to say very kind things! I appreciate you more than you know.
Oh, and thanks for putting up with all the GIF’s on here – I really like using them….