Adventures in Regrets

I’ve been thinking about regrets this week.  Not big life-changing things. Not even smaller live ‘n’ learn things.  I’m talking about “Oooooh, drat. I knew better than that” things. On most days, if you asked me if I have any regrets in life, I’d say  ‘no’… I’d also probably be lying, since I might regret having posted this photo online, and telling you how it came to pass. 

I’m sure I won’t regret this…    

But, for the most part, I’ve (eventually) learned from my mistakes, and am pretty regret free…or at least I was until this week.  This week, I found myself adding 2 new regrets to my list.  Two regrets in one week?  How could that be?

#2 – Burpees.

At some point in the distant past, I agreed to join the 100-day burpee challenge.  That’s 1 burpee on the 1st day, 2 burpees on the 2nd day, etc. until the 100th miserable day.  On day 8, as I waddled, jumped and flopped through my 8th burpee, and my indolent body was still complaining about the previous 7, burpees had made it onto my regret list.  However, since my sister’s also doing the challenge, it gives us a reason to send each other messages every day.  Since I like my sister, and since burpees are good for me, and since #1 on the list is way worse, burpees will eventually be relieved of their regretful status.

#1 -Bugs.

I check everything  for bugs here.  I shake out my shoes before I put my feet in them, I peek in the kettle every morning before I plug it in, I check my helmet every time I put it on…but I didn’t check my mango bag. A few weeks ago, I wrapped some of the mangoes on my tree in little paper bags, to keep the bugs, birds and squirrels off them as they ripened.  On Monday, I picked a bagged mango and brought it inside. When I opened the bag, I was left standing with a beautiful mango in one hand, an empty bag in the other … and 2 dozen little baby cockroaches scattering across my counter.  Since then, I’ve been finding a disturbing number of adolescent cockroaches partying it up in my pantry.   

That is the kind of regret I’m talking about this week!

Adventures in Zombie Lizards

Early this morning, (well, to be accurate, it was only early-ish) I was preparing a nice cup of oolong tea and unwrapping the remains of last night’s calzone.  My plan was to sit out on my balcony and enjoy the leisurely pace of a holiday morning breakfast before hunkering down with my phonology.

As I approached my patio door, I saw a lifeless lizard with only 1/2 a face on my balcony.  I thought to myself, ‘Poor lizard’, ‘Oh gross that’s going to spoil my calzone’, and ‘Where’s it’s face?’ all at the same time.  I put my calzone and tea cup back on the counter and went to fetch my broom. 

Moments later, I returned with the broom ready to sweep the poor critter up; the poor critter was gone!  I opened the door and looked all over the balcony – walls, floor, ceiling – there was no faceless lizard to be seen.  I figured a bird must have swooped in and picked up an early morning happy meal to go.  I returned the broom to the cupboard, returned my tea and calzone to my hands, opened the balcony door…and nearly stepped on the faceless lizard!  It was back, and in a different location. 

Slightly creeped out, I went for the broom again, only to discover that the lizard was gone: again.  

Honestly – how far and how fast can a lifeless faceless lizard move!!??  I was starting to think I may have been mistaken about the lifeless, but the faceless part was tough to miss.  I finally concluded that I had a zombie lizard on my balcony, and if s/he wanted to stay there, that was fine with me – but I was going to have my breakfast indoors.

During the course of the day, I’d peek out and sometimes I’d see the zombie lizard and sometimes I wouldn’t.  I never did  see it move.  Eventually, late in the afternoon, I did see it, surrounded by a gathering swarm of industrious ants.  That time, when I went for the broom, s/he didn’t disappear.  

I learned two things today:

1. Dead things, even little lizards, make me sad. 

2. The only way to crush a zombie rebellion is with ants – lots and lots of ants.

Adventures in Thai Shads

Riding home from the gym tonight, circumstances dredged up a memory from the ol’ memory bank.

Brockville, 1990: Shadflies, harmless fluttering insects, about the size of the tip of your little finger, make their way down the St.Lawrence River every year in the late Spring/early Summer. For a few days, upon stepping out of doors, I got shad flies in my face, up my nose, sprinkling my ice cream cone, and carpeting the grill of my car. In response to the sudden influx in flying insects, local residents collected as many of the bugs as they could. They scraped them off their windshields, put them in jars and took them home…because the local radio station was running a contest to see who could collect the most dead shadflies.

Chiang Mai, 2010: Flying termites (I’ve been told that’s what they are, but I don’t know for sure), harmless fluttering insects, about the size of the tip of your thumb, descend on Chiang Mai every year. For a few days, upon stepping out of doors, I get bugs in my face, in my hair, in my helmet, and plastering themselves on the front of my motorbike. In response to the the sudden influx in flying insects, local residents collect as many bugs as they can. They remove the tough wings, put them in jars and take them home…to fry them…because they’re delicious. (So I’ve been told.)