DIE, SUCK-AH! DIE!

This is how the seasons change, here in these parts: I went to bed with all the windows open, because it was so balmy out. I woke up at one point, still too warm, and flipped on the fan as well. Next thing you know, I'm awakened by rain and a roaring wind that sounds as if it's trying to lift the adirondack rockers right off the balcony. And my teeth are chattering. It's supposed to get down into the 30's the next two nights, and I couldn't be happier. I've had quite enough of mosquitos, wasps, scorpions and centipedes for one season. Die, I say! Die!

I know, I know - that's not a very hippie-like sentiment, is it? Well, at least I never call in the exterminator, or set off any bug-bombs. Mostly I just try to leave them alone and stay out of their way. If only they'd return the favor! When that wasp was determined to join our gnocchi-making party, did we smash him with a shoe? No, we did not. We scooped him up in a cup and carried him outside. And, what was my reward - when I woke up bleary-eyed one morning and didn't notice the one on the dark kitchen counter, right next to my teapot and cup? He stung the $%#& out of me, that's what!

When another of those gargantuan centipedes decided to drop in on my 11-yr. old niece and 28-yr. old nephew last weekend, whilst they were in the bat-cave playing video games, I'm not sure which one was more freaked out by it - the niece, who refused to go to the bathroom from that point on, without someone standing guard, or the nephew, who was going to have to sleep on an air-mattress in the very room where they found it!

The mosquitos were a complete surprise. I'd never really noticed any here, until after this recent round of drought-breaking rains. That's when a couple of uber-swift vampire mosquitos decided to move into my bedroom with me. Not a day goes by that I don't wake up with several new whelps - and we're not talkin' your ordinary, pimple-like mosquito bumps. These are your palm-sized, hot-to-the-touch, tarantula-like whelps. When I'd finally had all that I could stand, I broke down and began covering myself with an organic bugs-away spray from Bell Springs Products, before turning in for the night. The only place I didn't apply it was my face, 'cause the smell was so strong, I knew I'd never get to sleep if I did. So, guess who has been sporting a golf-ball-sized goober on her forehead all week?

A couple of days ago, Lexie came and sat on the side of my bed to visit with me, while I sat at the near-by computer. The windows were all wide open, and we could hear the workers chatting and laughing just below us, as they installed the cedar posts around our new garden. I happened to glance over at her, then froze in my tracks when I saw the scorpion sitting on her jean-clad thigh. "Lex, your leg! Your leg!" "Whunh?", she replied, as her eyes followed the direction of my pointing finger. Then she did what she always does when stressed or upset - she started giggling! I jumped out of my seat and searched frantically for some way to get it off of her. Finally, I grabbed a stiff piece of paper, but then I hesitated, and began to moan. "Ooohh! Uunnh! I don't know what to do! What if I touch it, and that makes it sting you?" We held our breath for a second, hoping it would crawl off onto the bed, but instead, it started inching along her leg, towards her bare foot. That's when we both commenced to screaming and squealing, while I danced around, flapping my arms. "Do something! Anything!", Lex shrieked. I swished at it twice, and missed. On the third try, I managed to scoop it up and fling it so high, we never even saw where it came down. We've been searching for it ever since - and wondering what the workmen must have thought of all the squeals and moans that they heard coming from my bedroom window that day. Die, Suckah! Die!