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To Hell With Spring


It’s been a cranky morning in the Queen’s Castle. Unusual for a Friday, since I’m normally alone and able to read the paper and drink tea until me bladder can’t take no more. Overshare? Why, yes. Yes I do.

Why am I cranky? Here’s a few reasons:

See all the muddy paw marks? That’s the result of the Wilburrito. He tromps through the bamboo, imagining he’s Crouching Tiger/Hidden Dork, then comes to the door wanting to be let in. If we don’t appear in a microsecond, he starts window polishing. But with muddy paws. Grrrrrrrrr.

That’s not all he does.

Mr. Adorable Fuzz-butt also sheds like a really shedding thing. Clumps. Chunks. Wisps of fur floating all around the house.

Though in all fairness, I believe an equal amount of fur flies off of Her Majesty, the Princess Casey-dog.

Uh, yeah. Maybe more fur. I’m certain she drags in wayyy more dirt, grit, sticks, leaves, dust, grime…

This is a small round up of the fur chunks from this morning. I sweep almost twice a day, especially this time of year. Spring. Harrumph.

Shedding. Double harrumph.

But this…this takes the cake, the pie, the torte, the eclairs, the profiteroles, the cookies… the whole dang bakery:

Ants. I hate ants. Zillions of ants. I hate every single one of them.

They decided to move the whole colony on top of a recharger that was plugged in behind the cedar chest. Gag. Double gag. You’d think the ants would have learned by now. What awaits them inside? Well, let’s just say my moratorium on killing things gets pitched out the window. Pronto. I have ant killing songs. I talk to them as I squish them. I’ve vacuumed up entire ant condos, telling them things like, “good thing you wore black today, ’cause it’s your funeral.”  

Every spring is the same. Our entire block consists of about eight thousand separate ant colonies. I haven’t been able to wipe them all out. And I have no problems with ants outside. I want them outside. I just don’t want them in my living room. Or kitchen. Or bathroom. Or pantry.

Grrrrrrrrr. All right. Back to vacuuming, washing and de-anting the house. Grrrrrrrrrr.

Spring can just go…umm…nope, it can just go. Now. Are you gone yet?


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