Invasion!

I’m still getting sap out of my hair from the
Christmas tree. Now, if you believe that,
I can probably sell you swampland here
in Florida--might even come with a pet
alligator, or a Burmese Python.

Pythons are open to hunters now.
Thousands of these snakes are winding
through the Everglades--and even a few
have been spotted in populated Florida cities.

I’m not sure what I’d do if I ever saw a python
slithering in my wooded back yard. I might
give it the directions to a couple of homes where
yapping dogs break the peaceful hum of the outdoors.

I don’t like snakes whether harmless, or not.
One hot day a couple of summers ago, an
unidentified, dome-headed snake lay coiled in
the corner of our lanai, by the pool.

I hollered for Tom to remove it.
With a bamboo pole, he managed to drape
the snake--which was flaring out in attack mode--
and flung it out to the woods.
I was hoping for drawn and quartered myself…

I’ve been a few feet from a coral snake, which was
snaking its beautiful body along the pool pump,
just as I was coming around to feed the chlorinator
its weekly biscuits.

I ran 0-30 in a matter of seconds to the
garage for a shovel. By the time I’d made
it back to the same spot, the deadly snake
had winded its way toward the hose in the front yard.

I bashed it a few times, and it defied me,
slithering onto the damp grass. I took the
pointed head of the shovel--by that time, I was
shaking--and jabbed it hard as I could, then
shoveled the 3 foot lump and dropped it onto
a wooded, corner lot.

Passing gardeners gawked in amazement at my
catch of the day. Yes, I’m not a snake fan, nor
a fan of anything creepy that has more legs than I do.

With Spring finally here, and hot summer
days ahead, I’m also on creepy-crawler, fly-by
critter watch. I’m sure invading armies of
subterranean fire and black ants are planning
their “Nancy” invasions in my yard.

Mosquitoes are busily promoting their species
for a juicy attack, along with their co-conspirators,
no-see-ums. I’m waiting…

A Little Bit Of This And That...

My eyes are growing to the size of golf balls
as I stare at the blank computer screen...

It’s not easy dredging through the cobwebby
recesses of my brain in the early morning hours,
trying to figure out something humorous to write
about for my blog--and to think I was writing my
blog every day for a few months!

My blog friend, Colin, is prolific--his food blog at:
http://wokkingontherun.blogspot.com is colorful
and informative, filled with delicious recipes.
But then, Colin isn’t an antique like me.
His brain is still in diapers…

Speaking of which…

Cruiser, our resident duck, has been bob, bob,
bobbing along the back lanai twice a day.
She brought her white headed baby with her last week.

Cruiser was quite piggish, swiping whatever bread I
was tossing out to her baby. So piggish in fact, that
Cruiser has a case of “beano-itis’.

Yesterday, she waddled beside where I was soaking
up some sun, and emitted what I thought was a foghorn.
She looked over at me, and I thought, don’t you dare
pin that ’blurp’ on me!

Speaking of which…

I live in Naples, Fl, a beautiful, gulf coast town filled
with senior folk, a natural, tropical atmosphere,
early bird dinner and drink specials, assorted cultural
events, and cars that cost as much as pocket change
in an Arab’s wallet.

So, with all the round-the-clock, delectable varieties
of international cuisine and drink, over-indulgence
is often a big problem.

Store aisles are often filled with indescribable ‘blurps’.
“Air fresheners on aisle 6, please.”
I make a quick beeline so as not to get pinned with the
unfortunate scent du jour.

Speaking of which…

I’m thinking about my sinner menu for tonight.
I mean dinner menu! Stir-fry, I think-- right, Colin?
My eyes are now hanging on little springs, flopping
up and down as I continue staring at the blank screen
in front of me, wondering if Dave Barry ever had this problem…?

Duck...!

I’ve never been very adept at sports.
My tennis serve always looked as though
I was swatting a swarm of flies.

Ping pong was no better.
The last time I played a couple of years ago,
the ball pinged more than it ponged.
The ceiling tiles were hit more often than the paddle.
I nearly lopped the ear off my partner.

Field hockey in high school?
Let’s just say my teammates were lucky that
their heads were still upright…

Basketball?
If it was game legal to shoot into both baskets,
I would have been stellar.
However, I reigned supreme at volleyball.
Being tall helped as I could spike the ball
just over the net.

One recent sport I’ve taken up is billiards.
I still can’t break worth weasel spit, but I’ve
learned enough from pool technique books
to plan a shot--often surprising, Physics defying,
two-pocket shots, jaw-dropping my opponent.

“That shot defied the law of Physics, Minnesota Skinny,”
he’d say. I always felt highly complemented since my
doctorate friend geometrically planned most of his shots.

I think I finally found my niche…
Now if I’d only keep some of the balls from jumping the table…

For You, Jen: Daisy

Today’s blog is for my daughter, Jen.

It’s amazing how much a pet comes
to mean to us everyday. Someone said yesterday,
“It wasn’t the same as losing a dog.”
Does that make the hurt any less?

As many readers know, I’ve blogged
about Daisy, our lovebird, on numerous occasions.
She died yesterday.

We all had an attachment to her.
Even Daisy’s vet said that she was the most
resilient, sweet bird he’d encountered in a long time.
She always looked like she was smiling.

Jen and Daisy were on the lanai yesterday morning,
probably on ‘Cruiser’ watch. Daisy liked to walk
around the decking by the pool.

She was always honing the edges of her beak
along the textured concrete. Recently we needed
to take the edge off her sharp beak--she could punch
a hole through leather, it was so sharp.

Suddenly, Daisy toppled over into the frigid pool,
wings flapping. Jen quickly grabbed her out,
and spent several minutes trying to revive her,
but the shock was too much for Daisy.
Heartbroken, Jen buried her in the woods.

Daisy was a loving animal. She begged for
and enjoyed her head rubs, and was always nuzzling
our cheeks and necks.

Daisy is missed, but won’t be forgotten…
Turn the sound on high for the spoon clattering!