The other day was a bit hectic, and included fighting with Jason Bateman (in my dream), flooding my kitchen (in real life), baking an entire batch of cookies for the ants (in error), and gardening with the help of my ancient neighbour and his cane (wielded like a sword).
You may be asking yourself, “Why didn’t I read about this? Why wasn’t such a day recorded for posterity on this blog that I sometimes read when I have absolutely nothing else to do with my time?” Dear reader, I have no excuse. It just didn’t seem news worthy.
However, since it’s been so long since I’ve written, and you’ve been so patient, I’ll tell you all about today’s adventures. I’m pretty sure it’s going to sound like I had a terrible, awful, dreadful day. I really didn’t. Overall, I’m feeling pretty good…but today, the rains came…and when the rains come, they bring trouble.
I came home this afternoon to find water dripping out of a leak in my ceiling, an overturned lamp, a shattered light bulb and a completely complacent cat curled up on the sofa, blissfully unaware of the shambles around her. For a feline, she is remarkably un-curious. Not only will curiosity never kill this cat, it won’t even give her so much as a hangnail.
|I have no interest in the world around me.|
Eventually, buckets were put in place, landladies were alerted, broken glass was swept away…then the bugs came. Every year, the first heavy rain of the season awakens the flying termites, who noisily swarm the nearest lights. Last year, I still had my mosquito net up, so took refuge under it and waited for the maelstrom to pass.
This year, I wasn’t so lucky. Not only was I exposed to the onslaught of fluttery bugs, the floor fan in my room was sucking them in, mashing them up, and blowing an oscillating stream of wings and bug-bodies all over my room. I had high hopes that the cat would at least take care of some of them…but no. Even after one bug flew directly into her face…twice…she looked at me like it was my fault, then sauntered away, completely ignoring the fluttery mayhem around her.
I needn’t have worried about the mess the bugs made. Even as they were falling to the ground, the ants were marching to collect their fallen bodies and cart them off to who-knows-where. (Honestly, I don’t know where…if I did, I’d do something about it.) Now, the only evidence of the bugs is a few scattered wings on the floor, and all is quiet. But the rain has started again…