Tinhuviel Artanis

Yes, it was another glorious day in the neighbourhood. It was either me or the grass, so I drug out the lawn mower and engaged in the most hated task in my life. Now, usually at this time of the season, I only have to mow the lawn once a week. I might can get away with waiting eight to ten days, even! Not this year. Because of the amount of moisture and heat we've already had so far, within four days, the grass is so thick, it's hard to walk through. After a week, the weeds are up to my knees (or what used to be my knees). Any time past that, and displaced Amazonian tribes are relocating to my back yard and fighting the cats for their food. This is typically what happens in July and August in the Armpit of Hell. Folks, it's only June. I don't even want to imagine what it's gonna be like in July and August. I'll have to be out there mowing every other day just to keep the subtropical overgrowth in check.

And fire ants. I've done everything I know to quash their invasion, up to and including environmentally unhealthy methods of extermination. Thanks to them, my Green Karma is very bad indeed. Because the grass gets so thick so quickly, I have no idea where the fire ant mounds are hidden. So, if I dare pause for any reason, chances are I'm standing on a fire ant mound, which means the angry little fuckers are immediately waging war on my poor pale legs. Have you ever been bitten by a fire ant? Most people think fire ants are called that because they're red. But they aren't. They look like your regular tiny black ant. The fire bit comes in their bite. And they don't just bite. They get into their biting. They latch on and start curling their bodies around in an orgasmic masticating frenzy. The longer they bite, the more it feels like a tiny fire placed into the area onto which they're attached. And you might think that brushing them away will make the pain disappear but, oh no. A couple of hours later, you're in for a world of hurt because a blister forms where their little hell mouth happened to be before. Around that blister is a wide circle of itchy red woe. This lasts for days. The more bites you have, the more horror you get to enjoy. All that said, I'm loathe to even hesitate in my own yard whilst mowing. I dash, screaming like a twelve-year old girl, pushing the lawn mower, and praying to whatever god might listen that I survive the heat, the ants, the vegetation, and the general unpleasantness that being in South Carolina presents.

That Creedence Clearwater Revival song "Run through the Jungle" might be about the Vietnam War, but it's also a very good metaphor for my ongoing war with my lawn here in the Armpit of Hell. Like I say every year, I need a goat.

Mowed the grass for the first time this season.

Kill me, kill me now, please please please.

It started out with my tearing up my bedside table, trying to turn off my alarm clock. For some reason, I thought the alarm clock was somehow connected to the lamp, so I was knocking the lamp to and fro while the alarm clock kept going and going and going.... GAH! After I got my act together, I got ready for work and left at five til 6:00. Thanks to the traffic lights being kind, I got to work with a minute to spare, at 5:59. Yeek, what luck!

The drink machines were ravaged over the weekend, so I emptied my drink cabinet. Once the drinks were done, I fill up the snack machine and pulled the stales out of the cold food machines, then fill them up with whatever leftover food I had after the weekend guy had done his thing. Pickin's were slim. I and everyone around me were looking forward to Jeff, my delivery dude. So I finished up with the food machines, double-checked the coffee machine for everything it needed, filled up the condiment containers and spork holders, then filled all the napkin holders. I flew through it all and didn't even break a sweat, which was unusual, because I sweat like nobody's business every morning when I'm doing my canteen attendant duties in the morning. It took me a little under two hours, then I collapsed in the booth I commandeer each morning to work on my Monday orders.

About an hour later it occurred to me that I hadn't checked the gum and mint bin in the snack machine. I checked it and it was seriously low on both Certs and the Doublemint gum. So I went to my cabinet and was collecting what I needed when I turned to find my boss, Brian, standing there. He scared the crap out of me because I wasn't expecting a person to be standing in the dark hall where all my supply cabinets were relegated shortly after I began working at Röautchling. After I pulled the skin I'd jumped out of back on, I asked what merited me a visit from my fearless leader. Turns out, he needed cold food. I told him I didn't have any until Jeff came by, but I'd call him as soon as Jeff arrived. He seemed happy with that, and with how everything looked in my neck of the woods, and off he went to wait for my call.

Shortly before 11 am, Jeff came with my daily goodies. I got only three trays of cold food, which meant I'd have nothing for Brian, nor would I have enough to do my peeps at Röautchling. Jeff tried to call him on his Nextel to let him know, but he couldn't get a signal in the cellular black hole that is Röautchling, so I called Brian and gave him the bad news.

As soon as I got off the phone with Brian, Aunt Tudi called me. Her doctor's nurse had called her about the bloodwork that was done last week with Aunt Tudi's visit. It turns out that her kidney function was pretty much nil and her potassium was out the roof. Her bloodwork was so back that Dr. Adams-Hudson wanted Aunt Tudi to go down to Spartanburg Regional's outpatient center to have the bloodwork done over, in the event the first readings were nothing but a fluke. She told Teresa, the nurse, that she wouldn't be able to make it down to Spartanburg until after 2, when I got off work, and Teresa said she'd let the lab folks at the outpatient center to look for Aunt Tudi after 2.

I left work about 10 til 2 and dashed off to pick up Aunt Tudi. I had her down to SRMC by 2:15 and she went straight back to the lab. She may hear something about the results this evening, so we're keeping the phone open in hopes the doc will call tonight. While we were in the Med Lab waiting area, I took a picture of the magazines available for people to read while waiting to have their blood drawn. This is the reality of living in the Bible Belt.

( let's shove jeebus down yer throat! )

After Aunt Tudi had 14 gallons of blood sucked out of her body, we headed back to Lyman to pay our car insurance, then back to the Duncan Bank of America to pay on the home equity loan. Coupons in our hot paws, we bounced across the street to Taco Bell, where we got us a free taco each. And now we're home, noshing on some fast Mexican food, and waiting on the phone to ring.

When we got home, I had a call from Tami at Dollar General. She's wanting me to come in to the store at 5 PM tomorrow to discuss options. The main office took so long to get my paperwork straightened out that the position for which I applied is no longer available. They want me to work for them, but it's just a matter of being placed. I told her that it needed to be in Duncan or as close to Duncan as possible, because that's why I initially applied for the job. She said that she wanted to work with me as much as possible to get me the position I needed, so I'm going to talk to her about it at 5 tomorrow. If I can't get a job at least 10 miles or under away from home, I can't take the job, because the gas I'd have to pay for to get to the job would pretty much void any income I may pull in from working there. It's a good thing I got an application at Taco Bell while we were there getting our free tacos. Driving 1.5 miles to Taco Bell isn't too shabby, even if I am getting minimum wage.

After Judge Judy, I have to go out and mow the grass. If I don't die, I'm coming in and drinking 50 gallons of ice water, then take a quick shower and pretend it's a long luxurious one. We're under a mandatory water conservation alert because of the drought. Showers aren't included in this, but I'm keen on conserving in any and every way possible. I have a keen imagination, so I can easily have that wonderfully long shower in my mind, even making it a waterfall under which I find myself blessed. In RL, I'll be in and out, toweling down and powdering like crazy before someone can say "Irish Spring!"

To top this lovely day off, Aunt Tudi broke the horrid news to me that Morgan Freeman has been severely injured in a car accident and is currently in serious condition somewhere in Mississippi. When she told me this, I could barely see for the tears in my eyes, which wasn't a good thing, since I was driving. I've loved Mr. Freeman since the Electric Company years. He's alway been like a member of my family and is definitely a father figure to me. If he dies, I'm gonna be a wreck. My mind is dwelling on Morgan Freeman's health and Aunt Tudi's health. Everyone I love is declining, it seems. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw everything aside and run far far away.

I'll leave this crazy post with a clip from the Electric Company, featuring Morgan Freeman as Easy Reader.



**EDIT**: The doctor just called and wants Aunt Tudi to go to the emergency room. Her kidneys look really bad and her potassium is dangerously high. So.... Any prayers, magick, thoughts, or whatever is very graciously welcomed and appreciated.

But not without a large cost to my physical well-being and my sanity. As I write this, my left knee cap is once again transforming into a hub cap. Ow. Just....OW. About two-thirds of the way through the task, I had to stop and replenish my liquids and decided to take some pics of how hideous I am when I mow the grass.

( behold the sweaty, red-faced, freak o'nature )

That last picture captures perfectly how stymied I really was by then. Once I was actually finished, I had to wring out my pony-tails before I could come in. I was that sweaty. And I had grass bits stuck all over me. And I itched all over. And I was blowing red mud outta my nose. But I finished right before 9 PM, as I predicted. By the time I hobbled in, twilight was giving over to night and the shower was calling my name.

Now I'm squeaky clean, but my face is still red and I'm still a little stymied. I....HATE....SUMMER....

My grass is almost a foot high because I can't imagine going out in the godawful heat and humidity to cut it. It is once again that time of year where I ponder the advantages of purchasing a couple of goats and letting them go berserk on my lawn. Of course, my usual honed ability to think up colourful metaphors for how hot it is here has been dashed upon the jagged rocks of moad_terran_hq's creativity. When he mentioned that it was "slap dough under your arms and make stank bread hot," not only did he force me to fall hopelessly in love with him, but he also hijacked what was normally my little niche of ingenuity: that is, describing how horrible the heat is in ways that make others weep and cackle simultaneously.

But I can't stop griping about the heat just because I've been outdone by moad_terran_hq. It's too hot not to gripe about it.

The current temperature is 83 with over 50% humidity. The temperature really isn't that bad right now, but the humidity is what makes it worse than it actually is. It's bad enough that the ladies (Smidgen, Shmoop, and Motley) are indoors, stretched out like noodles on the floor. It's supposed to get up to 92 today and, honestly, I'll be surprised if we make it there since it's already after 4 in the afternoon. But tomorrow.....tomorrow is supposed to be 98 or even hotter.

The family is gathering for a cook-out late tomorrow afternoon. In order to avoid the heat (like that's gonna happen) and be together at sunset in order to set off fireworks for the kids, we're gathering up at Uncle Michael's and Janice's around 6 PM. The way I see it, I will be chewed on by flies as I broil in the hot, wet heat until the sun goes down. Then, I will be chewed on by mosquitoes and have my nerves rankled by asplodey things and screaming kids. Oh yeah, I'm looking forward to it. I'd rather just sit in the dark and the cool of the bedroom and ponder the destruction of all Humanity. Heat makes me want to move the Alpaca Lips along a little faster than it's currently developing.

I need a large pool in which to dive nekkid. And I'd pee in it, or say I did, so no one else would encroach on my personal space.

I got to feeling a wee bit better and went out to mow at least some of the grass. I got all I could reach with the lawn tractor mown to a decent height and will do entirety of the front, back and field on Thursday or Friday, after the rain comes and goes. Now, I'm really quite chugged up from all the pollen outdoors and my sciatica is doing a job on me. I see a doctor's appointment in my immediate future.

Muh.

Yesterday afternoon, after Aunt Tudi and I returned from Hell Wal-Mart, Little Michael came by to sharpen the blades on my lawn tractor. Now, three weeks ago, when I went to get the tractor out to mow the grass, Agro the agriculturally pregnant cat, was in labour in my out-building, so I couldn't start the tractor up. When Little Michael, pulled the tractor out, I noticed that the kittens were still in the building and they were absolutely terrified by the loud motor on the mower. I checked them all out, all five of them (no wonder Agro was so huge!), and noted that they have the same eye condition that Shmoop had when I yoinked her away from Agro. They're not old enough to deal with antibiotics yet. As long as they're nursing, I need to let the natural antibodies in Agro's milk try to help them. If that doesn't work, when they start coming to the back yard for food, I'll start administering meds to them. There are two ginger kittens, one tabby, one black, and one pale pastel calico and grey. The calico and grey is the runt. She still has little bald feet! Agro was highly disturbed that her maternity ward had been compromised and promptly began moving her babies. I was able to get a picture of three of them before she returned to pick up another.

( kittie goodness )

I hate we scared the babies like we did, but at least now I can get the lawn tractor out and do what needs to be done without disturbing anyone else. Speaking of which, I'll be mowing grass right after work. May the Great Goddess have mercy on my soul.

---

Today, I'm wearing a shirt that Todd bought for me back in 1988. I've worn it off and on to work ever since, and I thought it would be appropriate to wear it today, my last day here in The Pit.

( dys )

Now, I'm just waiting around to be called to "human" resources for my exit interview. Then it's Mexican food time and a boring afternoon until I'm cut loose for the last time.

This week isn't passing quickly enough. I awoke this morning thinking it was Thursday. Suckage. To top it off, I hear through the grapevine that El Bastardo Supremo, Pat Robertson, has opened the shithole he calls a mouth and suggested American operatives assassinate Hugo Chavez. Someone needs to crush him with a large block of cement.

Of all the Fundie assholes out there, it's Pat Robertson I despise the most. He always has this smug little half smile on his face while he preaches his hatred and stupidity. Would that I could slap that sneer off his ugly face. I cannot sufficiently transform into words how much I hate this man. He's a con man, a liar, and the epitome of religious evil.

In other news, the Feudal Mistress isn't here yet. She's officially 15 minutes late. I should suggest to personnel that she get docked in pay not only for being late, but for also being a bitch. During my first hour here in The Pit, I packed up the remainder of my stuff. All that's left are my coconut guardians and my mistletoe. They won't leave until I leave on Friday. I may bring in a smudge stick to cleanse the cube so I won't have any residual psychic connection to the place. All I'm going to leave behind is the sticker that says "Jesus was a pacifist." Maybe someone will take it to heart.

Today is supposed to be rainy and cooler than it has been lately. Then it's supposed to dry out considerably. Either tomorrow or Thursday will be my best bet to whip the lawn into submission. The property looks abandoned, the grass is so high, which is uncool 'cos I live there!

That's all I got for now. That and some more pics of B. I'm gonna have to upload all these to his site this weekend. That would be faboo.

( royal barry-ness )

I awoke on the tail end of a conversation Aunt Tudi was having on the phone. When she hung up, I asked who who it was and she told me it had been Todd, who had called wanting to talk to me. So I called him back. He wanted to tell me that he'd finally gotten around to watching Eddie Izzard's "Dress to Kill." Of course, he's now addicted to Eddie. Since my conversion to Eddie by green_goblin70, I have converted five people. And Todd is keen on showing Eddie to others, so he'll be converting people soon enough. Eddie is like the comic Sadako. Once you've seen him, you're compelled to pass him along like a video virus. Yes, he's just like that.

It was around 10:30 I woke up. Right now, I'm waiting for the grass to dry out enough so I can cut it. It's currently 87 degrees with 61% humidity. That's not as bad as it has been, but it's still seriously uncomfy outdoors. I had pinto beans with a dollop of cheese for breakfast. Woe unto the Earth in about two hours. That's all I have to say.

Llew is coming over later this afternoon. He's going to ply me with a chicken quesadilla whilst I show him taped episodes of last season's Battlestar Galactica. He'll be staying the night. When I invited him, he asked me if this meant he was off probation. No, I told him. I don't know when or if he'll ever be off probation. There's a lot of healing to be done there. I'm considering this night a gesture of good faith and good will. We'll see how it goes.

Speaking of Battlestar Galactica....last night's episode was.....BUH! Really, that's all I can say. Astounding, shattering, brilliant! BUH!

I'm thinking about putting my Star of David back on. It's been years since I've worn it and I've had this urge to don it proudly. I just hope I still have the silver chain that goes with my pendant. I need to drag out my silver cleaner and clean my Star of David, too. There's black on it...that just won't do. My motivations for reconnecting to my Jewish heritage are my own for now. I'll write about it more later.

This cat (I think she is Shmoop's mum) has been extremely pregnant for a very long time. I mean agriculturally pregnant. So I named her Agro. Aunt Tudi and I were really starting to worry that she was unable to give birth because she was so increadibly large. No more worries. When I went to the out building to get the riding mower for my weekly regimen, I saw her at the back of the enclosure, in labour and nursing a wee ginger kitten. Finally! What a relief!

But...I couldn't start the riding mower because the building is once again a maternity ward.

I used the push mower to mow all the grass and sprained my ankle for my troubles. Blaaaaagh!!! But the grass is all mown, I've had my shower, and I'm looking forward to seeing the new babies in the next few weeks. I'd give my right breasticle if I could capture Agro and have her spayed.

The dogs are scheduled to be boarded on Friday so Aunt Tudi and I can head for Moncks Corner. Smidgen and Shmoop will be staying home with an abundant basin of food and the communal water cooler. They'll be happier at home instead cooped up at the vet's office.

I missed my Friday quiz fest and all my saved quizzes are on The Pit computer. But I took a couple today just be annoying.

( q )

Now I get to go cut grass for the first time in a week and a half in 90 degree temps and high humidity, whilst having my Moon. Hopefully, I will die out there and then someone else can worry about the grass...and work...and life...and shit.

Meh.

Despite my miserable state of womanliness, I was planning on mowing grass this afternoon after we got back from picking up Chester from the vet's office, but it's raining now like a cow pissing on a flat rock. That means I won't be cutting grass that now has gotten a boost of growth. It's growing so fast now, I'm up to every four days. Pretty soon, I'll be mowing every day just to prevent the Amazonian tribes from moving in and shooting me with poison darts on my way out to the car. I hate Summer with an unparallelled passion, yes I do.

Good news ~ Henry had his stitches removed today and the doc gave him a clean bill of health. Even though he's older than god, my dog pal seems to be doing quite well. Whooo!

I got the grass cut...finally! I've learnt something: an abundance of rain and extreme laziness does not a pretty lawn make. I think the breaking point for me was when I received an email from President Cardaso telling me that he was planning on relocating a small Amazon tribe to my back yard. I really wouldn't mind this except for the poison darts flying about, ya know? So down came the grass. I gave Mr. Cardaso the bad news and, even though I'm no expert on Portuguese, I do believe he proclaimed a pox on my house. Little does he know that I already have a pox on my house. This is the only way to explain the deluge of bad luck on me and mine so far this year.

But I digress. The grass is cut, my dog is on the mend, and I'm pooped. Off to bed!