If you don’t see me or my family in the next week or so, it’s because we’ve all been killed by the mutant wasp that’s been stalking us the past few days. I’m serious–this thing is the size of a bird. And you guys know how Caleb and I feel about bees (we calmly and rationally wig the frick out). A flyswatter or a shoe will not do the trick when it comes to killing this wasp; Caleb was out there last night, taking swings at it with an actual baseball bat. And this thing? Is highly intelligent, because it an developed this elaborate scheme where it flies away to one side of the house, tricking us into thinking it’s gone for good, and then–WHAM!–it sneak attacks us by flying up from the other side of the house, buzzing our heads like a territorial momma bird. Last time I checked, we paid the mortgage around here, so that back porch is ours for the taking.
I will kill you, wasp.
I saw a beaver yesterday evening. No big whoop.
Ha! Just kidding–it was a big whoop. A big whoop indeed, because not only did I see one, I snuck up on one (bad idea?), and I ended up less than 5 feet away from it before it noticed me, spun around, and bellyflopped into the water. And less than 5 feet away might as well be nose-to-nose, so that’s what I’m going to call it, and you can think I’m exaggerating all you want. Don’t care. I saw a beaver.
Okay–so. I was walking on the abandoned golf course/glorified nature trail in our neighborhood. I was on one side of a bridge when I noticed a brown furry shape move slightly over on a distant shore (the other side of the pond.) I thought it might be a giant fluffy dog rolled up in a ball, so I started watching it closely. It didn’t move like a fluffy dog ball would move, and my next thought was “OMG, BEAVER!” I stealthily crossed the bridge and made my way up the mini hill, walked over the golfing area thingy, and was just starting to be able to see the other side of the hill going down, when–BOOM!–Beaver. There it was, nibbling grass or whatever. I stood, almost in a frenzy because I didn’t have my phone to call Caleb or take a picture. I looked in awe at it’s face (not so cute, beavers are.) I looked at it’s big thick tail, I just stared at that thing until he left. Our encounter was only 1 minute, but I will remember it for a lifetime.
Then I saw a jackrabbit with pointy ears the size of my leg. And then…
I came home. We put the kids to bed. I showered.
Something didn’t smell right. In fact, something smelled totally foul. I sniffed around and around. The air was heinous. I started wondering if there was a skunk outside, but then I realized that all the windows were closed. And that’s when I knew.
Caleb and I went from dog to dog, smelling their backs. That stench was so bad, and we quickly determined that Darcy had gotten sprayed. In a major, major way. This is horrible for 2 reasons: 1. Skunk spray. Ew. and 2. Darcy likes to rub up against the bottom of the couch, and had been allowed to do so before we figured out what that smell was and where it was coming from.
Stupid dog. Stupid skunk.
We bathed her, outside in the garden house, with a combination of baking soda, vinegar, and dish soap. I think it worked for the most part; unfortunately, we can’t take our couch out and bathe it in the garden house, so it still stinks, and that stink just stinks up the living room, the bedroom…the whole house is pretty offensive right now. We’d open the windows and air things out, but that wasp would chew through the screen.
What am I talking about? It’s probably got a glass cutter.