I’m currently listening to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons…Le Quattro Stagioni…specifically the spring concerto… La Primavera, on Spotify. It’s got me feeling mighty perky on this Monday morning despite a fever. No matter whats going on, Vivaldi always makes me happy.
Finally. Spring is on our doorstep. Folks in Boston may have to wait a bit longer though. I sincerely feel for all the Bostonites that are once again shoveling snow, and on the eve of St. Patrick’s Day!
I needed the Vivaldi lift this morning since I’ve been nearly housebound since Friday (and today quite possibly marks another) …laid near flat with a monster of a cold and hacking cough. I don’t get these often, but when I do it is never a slight sniffle. It’s an all-out assault on the body, from head to toe. Rocket-man is also battling it so we’ve made quite the pair for each other this past weekend. Absolutely nothing got accomplished. Almost nothing that is. We did a lot of sofa-lounging, watching a few good movies while downing buckets of popcorn in-between nose-blowing and synchronized hacking coughing fits that often roused The Poodle from his bed. And, we drank a lot…hot tea, that is. We also managed to nearly exhaust our Costco supply of Kleenex.
After months of a harsher than usual winter for the south, buds on the trees are starting their almost tentative appearance. I noticed this just yesterday when out for an early morning walk with The Poodle. The sun was shining after an entire week of rain and gray gloominess that permeated every crevice of our lives here. The Poodle (not to mention his owners) was in dire need of some activity so Rocket-man and I dragged ourselves out of our sick state in the hopes that sun and movement would make us feel better. And it did. For a while.
But now, it’s that time of year again and for those who know me, you also know what that means. While Primavera is in the air and the birds are singing their own variation of Vivaldi in happy approval those Alabama creepy crawlers are emerging from their hibernation as well! It’s going on my third year here in middle earth ‘Bama-land and I regret to say that I am no closer to accepting or relaxing to the fact that I live in insect-hell. Just this past Saturday morning there was a scorpion to greet me when I entered my shower. Hastily retreating, I grabbed a towel (I was not going to deal with this situation in my birthday suit) and Tilex Mold and Mildew Spray (which fortunately was conveniently near-by). Taking aim, I sprayed away. As the white foam covered his body, he raised his stinger tail as if in resignation to his fate. He took his sweet time to expire. I was uncharacteristically calm through the ordeal of picking it up at arm’s length to get it out of my shower which made me quite pleased with myself; breathe…relax…be calm. It’s just a bug…I’m much bigger than this little insect… and now this insect is dead. One. Less. Insect.
Well, that didn’t last long.
Yes folks. I’ll admit to a petite obscenity-laced melt-down later in the day after I found a second, though smaller scorpion by my bed. My side of the bed! And this morning, with one eye open, sleep-deprived from a night of tossing, turning and nearly coughing my brains out, I am greeted by a fat centipede happily swimming laps in the toilet! Jolted wide awake at 5 a.m., anger seized me. Hell no! This is not how I want to start my day! I immediately flushed him down (take that you little bastard!).
No. I do not care a wit that these arthropods help maintain a entomological balance in ‘Bama-land’s insect hell. Saving centipedes certainly won’t make a difference in the insect population in and around my house! (Apparently, centipedes like spiders and small insects but then again snakes and rodents like to dine on centipedes…which I’d say just bolsters my case to getting rid of as many insects as I possibly can!). I suppose I should be thankful that I don’t live in a tropical rain forest. Centipedes there are large enough to take down frogs and small birds!. See. I’m capable of finding a silver-lining about living here (though you’ll have to excuse me a moment while I heave my milk and cookies).
So here we go again: It’s clear that it’s the time of year to don my “Raid holster” once again. A can of Raid…one on each hip. Seriously, what’s really clear is that I’ve got to work on staying calm in the days, weeks and months ahead. I refuse to let these creepy crawlers get the best of me. Some days, it really seems these wretched creepy crawlers are winning the battle. I’ve got to keep softly and calmly repeating that little mantra in my head: It’s just a bug…I’m much bigger than this little insect…
And then I have to kill it.