Monday, March 25, 2013

Home Invaders


Insects are cool when we watch them on TV, and sometimes when we see them in nature- but when it comes to them invading the house, well, that's a whole different ball of wax. Though I have to admit, sometimes I do admire them before I do anything about them.

The house rules are if I see it, I try to save it, but if it comes near me or is on me? I turn from caring to killer in 3.2 seconds.

As much as I hate house bugs, I get really gaggy if I try to kill one. I don't like the noises they make when I do manage to trod on a bug (usually by accident), so I try to go the holistic route and save them, but it doesn't always work. Let me give a perfect example:

Stink bugs: Up close and in a jar they are really neat to look at- the shield shape of the back, the cool patterns of the wing casing- just the intricacy of what God created is breathtaking sometimes. Until that sucker crawls on me- then I run screaming for the back door and flick it into oblivion. I know better than to step on a stinkbug!

Beetles: Those little red and black dudes that look like lightning bugs (without the glowing hineys) are kind of cute, and tickle when they walk on you- but not in my kitchen in hoards. Now they must die via bug spray, then I have to wash down the entire kitchen and find that stupid little hidey-hole they came from and caulk it up.

Ants: So fun to look at when you have them enclosed in a little glass farm, but not so cute on the counters, floors and any other place you might want to put food. Honey and boric acid works well to contain these little critters, but it's really annoying when you think they're gone and you see one Right. On. Your. Shirt. Lucky for me I don't mind squashing these because they don't make any noise, but it's still icky.

Flies: I don't like them and I can't catch them. When they hoard near a screen door I'll try to allow them one chance of escape, but if they refuse (or decide to multiply) out comes the flying insect spray and the window cleaner. And the laundry detergent for the curtains. Sigh. The only good use for these things is that they keep the cats entertained for hours.

Praying mantises: Really cool insects that are even cooler to look at up close- but I forget those suckers can fly and I turn into Rambo, destroying the entire kitchen when it decides to take a flight around the room. These I really do try to save when my heart rate slows down from 200 bpm.

Spiders: neat looking and welcome in spaces not frequented if they are hunters and not spinners. God's little exterminators. Unless you bite me or my kids, then you get a free ride out the nearest window. I try not to kill them only because they get rid of the bugs that make me scream and run from the house in a panic, like:

Roaches, waterbugs, or anything that looks like a roach: They are never cute, never fun to look at, and always scare the bejeebers out of me. After the entire house is sprayed heavily whilst gagging to death on the fumes (and the idea I might step on one), I have to go pick up all those bejeebers, and deep clean the entire house so it doesn't become a HAZMAT situation from the spray.

Since the move I've not had any of these creatures visit (except for the spiders which disappeared on their own), and I thank God every day for the reprieve. While I never had more then two of these pests at a time, I have had them all, and that made the life of this housewife all the more scary hazardous
richer for the experience. 

Please God, don't let it ever, ever happen again!

Monday, March 18, 2013

The List

It's time.

Spring is coming, and that sleepy bear feeling must leave the house in favor of open windows, bird song and fresh air.

In other words, indoor house work now becomes outdoor housework. Fresh air my left foot!

Not only do I still have to do the cleaning, cooking, and care on the inside of the house, but now I have to give up my extra naps and bon-bon eating to spend time outside, cleaning up after the bad habits of a very dirty world. Leaves dropped by lazy trees have piled up in places where the wind blew them, clogging drains and gutters alike. Branches and sticks poke out from the lawn, whacking me on my shins when I step on the just right. And those birds chirping outside my window? Well, it's great for Kitty TV, but now I have to add scrubbing down the deck rails to my List O' Torture.

Oh yes my dears, there is a List. A long, never-ending list of Things I Have To Do. The List O' Torture. The List of More To Do Than Can Ever Be Done. And life is not a circle either- it's a big dang list of stuff I need to complete before I die.

Part of me wonders that if I do die with an uncompleted list, do I have to finish the list before I get to heaven, or does the List get passed down to my kids? Kinda hoping it's the latter one, but the former would explain why people see ghosts- and why those ghosts seem really grumpy.

My kids have lists too, and so does my husband- but his list is even longer than mine, and I wouldn't trade with him for the universe. Ever. He's the guy that cleans the gutters for me because I'm afraid of heights- and not just a little afraid either- I panic when I'm more than two feet off the ground.

I can cross off bungee jumping and zip line rides off the vacation list anyway. I don't think they possess enough rubber or cable to take a lady of my size on- and survive the experience!

One thing I'm looking forward to is the warmer weather- sunny skies don't make the list seem so bad. Raking tree poop in the sunshine gives my poor vitamin-D deficient body a chance to soak up some vitamins- the minerals will come from breathing in the tree poop dust as I rake it into a compost pile. 

And the birds. Oh, those little mess-makers I never gave birth to...

Don't get me wrong, I love birds. I just wish there was a better way of using their leavings than decorating my deck rails. If I could, it would all go into the compost pile- maybe if I put a feeder over the compost? The idea has merit. I also like hummingbirds and was thinking of putting a feeder near the Kitty TV window- so they get the Hummingbird Channel most of the day. I plan on adding little signs to the feeder that say 'Bees, Keep Out!' just so they won't take the food meant for the birds. Or sting me.

I think I ought to invent a bird poo picker upper, because this tiny broom and scoop just ain't doing the job.

Now I need to add 'Invent Stuff' to my List. Sigh.

Spring has sprung, the grass has risen, do you wonder why my List is missin'?

Monday, March 11, 2013

Assaultin' Battery

It's winter- the time for snugly blankets and fuzzy socks. And if you have carpet, it's also the time for static electricity.

Something that gives my husband maniacal glee.

I've begun calling him 'The Battery' because he seems to gather a charge not just from the blankets and carpets, but from any surface that he can suck a charge from- I'm surprised the lights don't dim when he passes by them.

He reminds me of that guy from the 80's TV show Weird Science- he could suck electricity from anything, and had to disperse it when he was fully charged. My husband does the same thing.

Usually on me.

He leans in to kiss me goodbye. Zap! I swear I saw a Tesla coil arc between our lips! And it wouldn't have surprised me if I saw a curl of smoke either. I try to swat him, but it's too late- he gets out the door before I can get him.

He's tried to be more considerate. Instead of zapping my lips off, he touches my cheek ever so gently before he kisses me. Like that's any better when the spark hits. It's even more super-fun when he does it as I'm concentrating on a writing project- nothing like being jolted out of your chair when you're in the middle of a masterpiece.

Now he tries only to touch my shoulder or the middle of my back. I've started wearing a heart monitor just in case he sends me into defibrillations.

My daughter sees his antics and tries desperately to copy them, but she either has the wrong wattage or is unable to hold a charge for long- though sometimes she does get me, but she gets herself even more- no matter how long she rubs her stockinged feet across the carpets.

She's a AA compared to my husband, the Cessna DieHard. And if he keeps this up, I might not be the only one that gets assaulted!

I simply cannot wait for a nice, wet Spring!

Monday, March 4, 2013

I Am a House Ninja

My kids and husband rarely see me clean the house. Most times they see me on the computer, reading, or making meals. They have no clue as to my true identity.

I am a House Ninja.

The second that everyone is out of the house, I check my list of ninja chores, put on my ninja gear (when it fits) and off I go, armed with my steamer, vacuum and cleaning supplies.

It's not easy being a ninja. You have to look just lazy enough so no one will know it's you doing everything, but not so lazy that your husband tries to rent you out as a speed bump.

My kids trounce down the stairs in the morning, wondering what they'll have for breakfast. Most times they make it themselves (all a part of teaching them independence), but sometimes it just appears on the table. I tell them it wasn't me- I was busy on the computer- it must have been their father (And yes, sometimes it really is him! But he's just a part-time ninja- I don't think they believe me all the time.

Little do they remember that the steps they just trod down were cluttered the night before with stuff that would trip an elephant, dumped by the same people that disregarded said cleaned-up mess as they made a beeline for breakfast. They also never saw their clean clothes folded and put in baskets that now lay in front of their rooms, their socks matched and cuffed, nor their scattered trinkets gathered and magically placed with their clean clothes.

They leave for school and the house is messy. They come home and the house is clean. Yet mom never left the computer. Amazing.

Snacks and desserts were apparently conjured right before they got home. That item they've been looking for for months now lies on their bed. Floors that don't crunch underfoot- even though they had a popcorn fight the night before and know they didn't pick up all of the little bits.

Sometimes they notice, sometimes they don't- but that is the life of a House Ninja.

Oh, they'll deal with it all eventually, only because the House Ninja can't fit into her tights anymore and is planning to retire from duty before she dies. Maybe even next week.

In the meantime, I'm working on becoming a Ninja Writer. Hi-ya!