I'm just back from a walk and feel as if I have gotten my engine block steam cleaned. It would seem that every living thing is exhaling hot, moist air and every living thing is thriving and striving to be, just like the Marines, all that they can be. Things which have not bloomed in memory are blooming and those things which always bloom are going at it with a lurid exuberance.
The wild gladiola which spreads determinedly to every part of my yard is putting out bright orange flowers which glow almost radioactively in the sunlight. Usually, only a few bloom and I have spent countless hours fruitlessly pulling them up.
The crepe myrtle is heavy with blossoms. I particularly admire these in my neighbor's front yard, the one pink, the other more of a magenta. When they shed their blossoms, the ground beneath them looks like the morning after a fiesta.
My phlox which I brought over from my last yard and which I have transplanted everywhere are going crazy, and as always, I wish I had more than one color but still, it is all a glory, albeit a hot and humid one today.
I had another bat incident last night. I was eating my Mr. Moon-is-out-of-town-dinner-of-salmon-and-spinach in what we call the Glen Den, trancing out on some Real Housewives from Somewhere (oh- their problems- they are neverending and so dramatic, not unlike their cleavage and eyelashes) and Mr. Moon called to tell me good night and while we were talking, a bat began flapping its way around the room in circles and I screamed and said, "There's a fucking bat in here, goddammit, and you're not here!"
This was true.
He called our neighbor across the street to come and get it but I wasn't in the mood for a bat-retrieval circus and so I declined the offer of help and simply grabbed my plate, turned off the light and the TV in that room and fled, shutting the door behind me. The bat, one would assume, is still in there and there he can stay until tonight when Glen gets home. I...just...can't deal with bats. There really is an insane fear on my part that the bat will fly into my hair and become entangled in it. I do not know why and really, it couldn't because my hair is always up and controlled and perhaps a grasshopper could get entangled in it but not a bat. I don't care if it makes no sense, I've seen those wing toenails and I AM NOT HAVING IT!
I can deal with this rash on my face, I can deal with the humidity, I can deal with spiders (and oh! the golden orbs are growing to monstrous proportions this year!), I can deal with poop and with heat and with frogs everywhere but I cannot and will not be dealing with bats.
That's all there is to it.
(Oh god. I hope I am not tempting fate.)
Well, none of this is earthshaking or new. It's just the news from Lloyd.
Happy Tuesday, y'all.