Well this morning started out fine until, while all of us were in the living room, we heard a thump. Looking out the window to see what it was we saw a dead bird on our porch. We went out to find that it was a quail. Ok this is weird. We never see quail on our porch, rarely see them flying and when they do it is usually just a couple feet off the ground, never at our window level.
My first thought is that this bird must have had one rough night. I mean flying home still drunk at nine the next morning. Or maybe it was a victim and someone had spiked its drink and the thing was still disoriented. Or maybe this was one of the new initiation acts that the gang of teenage quails was imposing on any quail that wanted to feed in our yard/their turf. Well whatever the reason for this poor quail to fly into our window and kill itself, I sadly dealt with it and brushed the weird incedent aside and proceeded with my morning cleaning.
Then less than an hour later I am cleaning webs from the four corners of every room and within seconds of getting ready to flick a blur on our ceiling I realize that it is a scorpion. I just almost flung a scorpion on Emma who is sitting on the couch, or worse on my head.
Now I can pretty much handle anything that comes through our house, from a wide range of spiders, skinks, beetles, skunks, bugs and everything in between with little variation in my heart beat, but scorpions for some reason send me into a panic. I hate them.
So I, for probably the first time in our marriage, called Ian in a complete panic. "There is a scorpion on our ceiling and I do not know what to do"
"get a jar and catch it"
"Then what?"
"well then take it outside and let it go"
"I am not letting that thing go outside the HOUSE"
So I found the deepest glass jar I could find, gave Sam my phone and told him to call 911 if it stings me, then with a unfamiliar frantic heart I caught the damn thing and sent it to a poopy grave (I flushed it down the toilet and into our septic tank.)
Anyone who knows me knows that I am not one to panic or really get frantic about anything but even now talking about this scorpion is getting me going again.
I HATE SCORPIONS!!!!!
It was just two too many weird incidents that makes me expect to see a deers head on my rocking chair when I go out on the porch. I think that I am going to go somewhere else now until my house has come out from under this weird voodoo. And with all my heart I am sorry for whatever I did to piss someone off.
My first thought is that this bird must have had one rough night. I mean flying home still drunk at nine the next morning. Or maybe it was a victim and someone had spiked its drink and the thing was still disoriented. Or maybe this was one of the new initiation acts that the gang of teenage quails was imposing on any quail that wanted to feed in our yard/their turf. Well whatever the reason for this poor quail to fly into our window and kill itself, I sadly dealt with it and brushed the weird incedent aside and proceeded with my morning cleaning.
Then less than an hour later I am cleaning webs from the four corners of every room and within seconds of getting ready to flick a blur on our ceiling I realize that it is a scorpion. I just almost flung a scorpion on Emma who is sitting on the couch, or worse on my head.
Now I can pretty much handle anything that comes through our house, from a wide range of spiders, skinks, beetles, skunks, bugs and everything in between with little variation in my heart beat, but scorpions for some reason send me into a panic. I hate them.
So I, for probably the first time in our marriage, called Ian in a complete panic. "There is a scorpion on our ceiling and I do not know what to do"
"get a jar and catch it"
"Then what?"
"well then take it outside and let it go"
"I am not letting that thing go outside the HOUSE"
So I found the deepest glass jar I could find, gave Sam my phone and told him to call 911 if it stings me, then with a unfamiliar frantic heart I caught the damn thing and sent it to a poopy grave (I flushed it down the toilet and into our septic tank.)
Anyone who knows me knows that I am not one to panic or really get frantic about anything but even now talking about this scorpion is getting me going again.
I HATE SCORPIONS!!!!!
It was just two too many weird incidents that makes me expect to see a deers head on my rocking chair when I go out on the porch. I think that I am going to go somewhere else now until my house has come out from under this weird voodoo. And with all my heart I am sorry for whatever I did to piss someone off.
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Muna