I could make a lot of excuses for my blog absence, but they are largely boring, so I will spare you the details.
We have been spending huge chunks of our lives at our local beach, where we arrive with beach chairs, and snacks and murder mysteries. The mothers settle in together and chat while the children splash and swim and dig. Summer in my town is a very sweet kind of suburban perfection. I am keenly aware of how blessed my days are and how lucky I am to be keeping such great company. I will not forget the flavor of this summer or the evening light flickering through the trees.
I am also not likely to forget the old man at the beach who completely undressed in front of Amy and me. There we were chatting about laundry, when an elderly man took off his speedo and spent five long minutes getting into his underpants. I learned a few things about age and the human body that day. Things I had only suspected, but thought I would not witness for decades. Nature is not kind to the elderly butt. Nature wrinkles the cheeks and well, I don't want to really tell you what nature does to the testes. You'll have to trust me when I say that nature and gravity are a nasty pair.
In spite of the magic of summer, some things never change and it was the smell of decomposition coming from my basement which so clearly exemplified this truth. Last week I made my way down to my scary basement and smelled something which I have previously only associated with the death of baby birds in my bathroom vent. By no small miracle David was home for this animal related misery and so I demanded that he go to the basement and find the source of the odor. He appeared after a few minutes with a completely desiccated mouse. He was happy with his find because it was neither stinky nor maggoty. I was unhappy because I knew that we had not yet found the source of the smell.
So convinced was I that there was another corpse to be found that I hunted around and sure enough, I found a very freshly killed mouse. It was in the early stages of decomposition. It was not maggot infested yet, but it was surely on its way. David kindly disposed of the mouse and I felt a peace and satisfaction which was doomed to be short lived.
Last week while in the basement to do laundry I was startled by a sudden movement at my feet. I screamed in spite of myself, sure that I was about to find a pile of baby rats under the sink. Instead I found something which surprised even me. There was a toad in my basement. How the toad got in, I do not know. He was alive, so at least he did not smell. I scooped him up, took him outside and gave him a very stern talking to.
Yesterday was my birthday so I did what any other 39 year old housewife would do. I went junking with Amy and we had nachos for lunch. The nachos were perfect. They were crisp and warm and the cheese was hot and melty. Nachos are perfect food, and very soothing if you are entering your 39th year and have had a summer filled with ant infestations and dead animals in your basement.
To those you you who still stop back here hoping for a post, I will try to do better. I appreciate your time, your comments and your gentle nudges to write.