Raindrops Keep Fallin'...

Florida reached the peak of hurricane season
on Thursday. Thankfully, hurricane predictions
have been way off this summer--not to say it
still couldn't be a possibility. Our worst hurricanes
have occurred in mid September-October.

Every summer, Tom cringes at the thought
of another hurricane season when the predictions
are revealed by the National Hurricane Center.

He says that I can’t bury my head in the sand about
the possibility of still getting one this season.
I don’t think about it so much.
What’s scarier are the heavy downpours we get
sometimes, like yesterday.

Naples got 2” of rain and the thunderstorms were
shattering. I’d met up with a gal friend for a late lunch
and became stranded at her place.
Electricity flickered for hours until 9:00 p.m.
when the storm let up a bit.
By the time I got home safely, I’d passed
by three severe accidents.

The back yard is a pond, teeming with tadpoles.
The woods are noisy with cicadas and frogs.
Cruiser is wading this morning, enjoying her morning feast.

Humor Me...

Humor is supposed to be funny, right?
One shouldn’t have to be sloshed to laugh
at a good joke or a one-liner.

So I go ahead and tell my gal friend
a very funny side-splitter.
You’d think I was telling it to Mt. Rushmore.
Barely a crease of a smile--a bit reminiscent
of Nixon’s post-Watergate stone face.
A colonic may have helped her…

Who wouldn’t think that a Rodney Dangerfield
one-liner wasn’t funny:
*My parents gave me toys for the bathtub--
a toaster and a radio.
*My uncle’s dying wish, he wanted me on his lap.
He was in the electric chair.
*I was an ugly kid. I went to a freak show
and they let me in for free.

It’s okay if those humor shorts didn’t tickle
your funny bone.
R.D. was off-the-wall funny.
I connect to his weird sense of humor.

I inherited the funny bone from mom;
we had some great unforgettable, hysterical moments.
Laughter is the best medicine…

The Ant-inator

Ants, the size of Sherman tanks, invaded
the lanai over the weekend.
Tom and I foot stomped at least 100 or more.
They're indestructible.

No sooner would I squish them, that
they'd pull an Arnold, suddenly reconfiguring
their twisted bodies.
I couldn't even get Cruiser, our tortilla chip-eating
resident duck, interested in picking them off.

The recent deluge unearthed the huge beasts.
They were circling the pool in droves; some were
diving into the water.
All that was missing were their floats and snorkels.

I hosed them off through the lanai doors,
then used some ant spray.
Impervious to that, the armor proof
ant squad regrouped and skittered defiantly
along the cage perimeter.
I expected to hear bugles blowing...march on!

Short of using something volatile like
a flame-thrower, I sprayed them once more .
I could've been spritzing them with
Tommy Bahama, all the good it did...

Then, seconds later, dizzy and awkward,
they fell, legs up...
looked like the conga line after a wild night
at Sloppy Joe's.

What a way to spend my summer...