I know I promised tales of Yucatan road trips. And then came the plagues of Egypt.
Well. That is a bit dramatic. More like the hurdles of daily life.
Two more were added yesterday. The microwave decided to die -- and my wireless keyboard decided that s's were an unnecessary sound in English when the z key works perfectly well. Only to be followed by lines of s's without a key being touched.
But that is not our topic for today. Instead, I have animal tales. Not the plague type. Just interesting things. Two, to be exact.
I started to open the gate Thursday morning to pull out my truck for some pre-Thanksgiving errands. But the road was blocked by a team attempting to fix a water main that was turning my cobblestone lane into a bit of wilderness white rapids.
I was going nowhere until the hemorrhage was stanched. So, I started closing the gate.
Ants are everywhere in Mexico. Including the gate area. I had seen the evidence of their work -- tiny cones of sand -- between the paving stones. But I never paid any attention to them -- until today.
I had dropped the gate key. When I picked it up a tiny ant hitched a ride on my hand. But she was apparently not a very happy ant. I first felt a tickle, and then a sting -- what nurses now reassuringly call a "pinch" when they insert a hypodermic.
It turns out I have fire ants in my courtyard. I remember years ago reading about farmers in the south who would run over fire ant hills with their tractors -- and suffer the consequence of ants swarming over the tractor and driver. The tales had a certain Irwin Allen aura to them. Frightening -- and just a bit fantastic.
Let me tell you, I am now a true believer. If that little ant could inflict the damage it did on its own, I cannot imagine what a Ganny of her sisters could do.
There are days when I swear Allent Funt is hiding around the corner from my house. When I next checked on the progress of the water workers, they were gone. But just as I opened the gate, what should wander into view?
A cow. With a lead trailing behind in the mud. Merely sauntering from one end of the street to the other.
It is moments like that when I feel an Eddie Albert moment coming on. The only thing missing was Eva Gabor trailing behind in heels and chiffon.
Of course, my camera was back in the house. But this photograph from one of my favorite spoof movies will do.
But we have some road trip tales to tell.
And they are coming. Just you wait.
Ants are everywhere in Mexico. Including the gate area. I had seen the evidence of their work -- tiny cones of sand -- between the paving stones. But I never paid any attention to them -- until today.
I had dropped the gate key. When I picked it up a tiny ant hitched a ride on my hand. But she was apparently not a very happy ant. I first felt a tickle, and then a sting -- what nurses now reassuringly call a "pinch" when they insert a hypodermic.
It turns out I have fire ants in my courtyard. I remember years ago reading about farmers in the south who would run over fire ant hills with their tractors -- and suffer the consequence of ants swarming over the tractor and driver. The tales had a certain Irwin Allen aura to them. Frightening -- and just a bit fantastic.
Let me tell you, I am now a true believer. If that little ant could inflict the damage it did on its own, I cannot imagine what a Ganny of her sisters could do.
There are days when I swear Allent Funt is hiding around the corner from my house. When I next checked on the progress of the water workers, they were gone. But just as I opened the gate, what should wander into view?
A cow. With a lead trailing behind in the mud. Merely sauntering from one end of the street to the other.
It is moments like that when I feel an Eddie Albert moment coming on. The only thing missing was Eva Gabor trailing behind in heels and chiffon.
Of course, my camera was back in the house. But this photograph from one of my favorite spoof movies will do.
But we have some road trip tales to tell.
And they are coming. Just you wait.
