If I wanted to live in a tent, I’d go camping. Or maybe I should say, if I wanted to feel like I was camping, I’d live in a tent. Whatever. The point is, my house has not been feeling very homey lately, at least not for me. Maybe if you asked the birds, bees, mice, raccoon, spiders and fuzzy caterpillars what their opinion of my house is, they’d all raise their hands (for those WITH hands) unanimously that it’s the perfect place to take up residence.
It all started with the mouse. Almost two months ago he/they arrived and only a couple of weeks ago did I feel confident they had packed their bags and left. And as they left they must have stopped for a smoke with some bees and let them know that we had a hell of a crib and that they should move in for a while. Hundreds of bees swarmed the outside of my house and in an attempt to kill off the queen and her worker slaves, we managed to freak them out so much that they escaped INSIDE my house through ceiling fans and other fixtures. That’s right, I had bees IN my house. Luckily in only one room (save for a few strays that made it into the hallways), but inside nonetheless. The good news was that they were high on bee poison and pretty much sat and watched as a shoe/newspaper/wooden toy slammed them out of their misery. As of last week… bees gone (much to Luke’s dismay since he had just gotten the hang of saying bzzzzz, every time we saw yet another bee).
Last week I came downstairs at the ass-crack-of-dawn to let Bella outside for her routine pee and when I opened the door she took one step out and quickly u-turned into my knees. I peaked out and saw a very sickly (but oh so cute in Hannah’s eyes) raccoon hanging out on my front stoop. I wouldn’t have known it was sickly besides the fact that it was a raccoon and it was daytime. Daytime+Raccoon=sick/possibly rabid raccoon. I called the animal control peeps and an hour later (after 60 straight minutes of trying to explain why we could not go out and pet the raccoon or bring it inside to help it feel better or give it a bowl of water or a snack, or ask it if it was lost), raccoon carted away on a hook.
Yesterday I noticed about half a dozen dead rather LARGE spiders in my FINISHED basement. I have a “thing” about spiders. If you know me at all, you know that to me there really is nothing worse than spiders (read here). After seeing just one spider I have the creepy crawly feeling that they are in my hair, down my shirt, on my arm… I very well could look like a crazy person swatting at myself for hours after a sighting. Give me a snake any day of the week but keep the spiders AWAY. I don’t know where these spiders are coming from and I saw another one on my family room couch today, walking across the couch (getting a better view of the TV perhaps?). Surprisingly, I didn’t panic and well, he’s gone. I googled “spiders in the house” and it seems to be a common thing in country homes but I’m not pleased. Apparently the spiders didn’t get the memo from the mice, bees and raccoon that we really are not cooperative hosts to uninvited guests.
And then TODAY I saw one of those fuzzy black and brown caterpillars (I think they’re called Wooly Bears although they are neither really wooly nor bears) in my basement. You know, the ones that you used to collect in a paper cup when you were little and you’d bring them into the house to show your mom and they’d be crawling up your arm? What do you mean you didn’t do that? It could NOT have been just me. It wasn’t so cute today. Not when Luke could have seen it first as he was doing his little art project with glue and puff balls… Mr. caterpillar could have been glued to a yellow piece of construction paper three seconds later. Luckily I knew I hadn’t purchased any puff balls in the black/brown striped variety and picked him up with a sock and gently placed him in his proper environment OUTSIDE. I can’t say for sure but I think he thanked me from saving him from Elmer.
And the birds! The first time the sweet robins decided to give their babies a home on our flood lights, we thought it was so sweet. We stood and watched the miracle of birds building a nest and heard the beautiful chirping as the babies were born. Five years and five nests later… FIND A NEW HOME! It’s messy looking and unbelievably noisy! Chirpity, chirpity, chirpity chirp chirp chirp. (Do I sound bitter)? Maybe if they were the only creatures taking over my house, I wouldn’t mind so much but dammit… I want my house back! I want to sleep in peace! I don’t want to worry about what is coming next. Care to wager a guess? Frogs? Locusts? Hippos? I’m tempted to just turn off the electricity and water in the house, charge up my flashlights, pull out my sleeping bag and start roasting some marshmallows.
Ghost stories anyone?