People- that is a regulation-sized mop bucket. Lord have mercy! I took its picture and then gently knocked it onto the top of an ice chest in the shed right next to where the bucket rests on a fence post.
I am still rather staggered at the size of that sucker.
Here's another picture which shows more detail of the creature's stick-like camouflage.
Also a bit of my hand for more scale. Nature is a wondrous thing when it isn't trying to kill me. Or involves rodents. Or roaches. Or bats.
Oh fuck it. Sometimes nature is cool. Sometimes nature just creeps me out.
Anyway, yes, my bathroom is as clean as it's going to get which is to say, clean enough. And I am thrilled to report that I came upon no mouse nests. It's too dark to take pictures now but here's one of just the sink with the lamp I bought in Roseland at the Methodist Thrift Store. Believe it or not, that is far more de-cluttered than it was before I started. I threw away a huge amount of stuff from in there and should have thrown away a whole lot more.
You may notice that I did NOT take down the pictures of Bill Murray. This may not surprise you one bit.
So the east side of my house smells of bleach and Fabuloso and the west side of my house smells like bread. This is not a bad combination, actually. Rather cozy. Homey. Now why I'm home at all is beyond me. I should be either on a date with my husband who offered to take me out, or in Monticello seeing Arsenic and Old Lace. I am obviously doing neither of these two things but am home alone because Mr. Moon decided that since I am so lame that I can't even go to supper with him, he would go to an FSU basketball game. That is not how he put it, but it is how I feel.
I am lame.
I don't even want to talk about it.
Okay, here's another picture.
Boppy babysat for his boys for awhile today at their house. I think they were pretty happy to see him and I know he was happy to see them. He said that Owen asked him today when they were going to go fishing. Or, as Owen actually says, "Dishing," which I find charming. They may go tomorrow as the boys are coming to spend the night and will arrive in the afternoon. Lily and Jason are getting a much deserved evening off and are going to Brewfest, whatever that is, and I believe it may involve beer. Billy and Shayla are going too and when Billy and Hank were here on Monday, Billy asked Hank if he was going.
"Not unless all they serve is Pabst," said Hank.
He is the very definition of brand loyalty. At least as applies to beer.
So anyway, here I am in my cozy house although it's sort of chilly. I don't have the heat on yet. I have a feeling I will be turning it on soon although maybe not. I went out to put the chickens up and this is what the sky looked like to the west.
It sort of took me by surprise so I came in and got the real camera which I have lately become too damn lazy to use. After I told my chickens good-night, I took a few pictures of the rising moon.
Nothing special but, there you are.
Friday night in Lloyd. I may be all alone but it is my own damn choice and I may be about to eat leftover tuna casserole but by god, it is GOOD tuna casserole and has artichoke hearts and tiny peas and celery and onions and black olives and spinach in it. DAMN fine tuna casserole.
And fresh bread out of the oven to eat with it.
And I gave up on the Alan Gurganus book I was trying to read and have resigned myself to the fact that if I met him, I would love him but I can't read him and I'm done trying. I am now on the third-to-the-last CD of the audio version of TC Boyle's San Miguel however, and I am in mourning for it coming to an end. And I just started Matt Haig's The Radleys and am already taken in.
So. I am no loser! I am simply a woman who loves her Fabuloso/Bleach/Bread smelling house who does not want to put on a bra and go out into the public arena.
That's my story and I am sticking to it like a walking stick bug sticks to a mop bucket.
I used to be wild and beautiful and young but I am not anymore and I need to get some good sleep because my grands are coming to spend the night tomorrow. My hands smell of Fabuloso and that is just fine with me.
Talk to you tomorrow. I won't be wearing a bra then either.