Aaah…it’s summer already. Summer in the south is a little different from summers in other parts of our great nation. Southern summers mean incredibly sizzling temps usually in the triple digit range, which by themselves wouldn’t be so awful but oh that humidity!
From about mid-June until sometime in September, going outside is like taking a walk in a steam bath. The air is so thick and moist you’re almost swimming in it! A brief jaunt from your home to your car can wreck the best tresses, and there’s no hair care product on earth that can stand up to this southern mugginess. For those of us with naturally curly hair, we can only run up the white flag of surrender and either put our locks in a ponytail or go around singing “Tomorrow, Tomorrow…the sun will come out tomorrow…” and hope people will think we’re auditioning to play Annie in the musical.
By the time the clamminess hits its full impact, southerners are pretty exhausted. We’ve just gone through a spring where we had to battle the god-awful “yellow death” of pollen, which is followed by those little worm-like things that fill our yards, cling to our clothes, and then disintegrate into our floors. Once those go away, we get the strange berries that leave stains wherever they land and have the innate ability to stay moist on our shoes just long enough to also stain our wood floors, tile, and carpets. And if you happen to step on them barefoot, that’s no picnic either.
As the weather begins to boil us into splats on the sidewalks, we will get the almost daily afternoon showers, which, although they are a nice respite from the heat, will of course stir up even more humidity and wake up the flies and mosquitoes.
I know people in other parts of the country don’t believe us when we tell them about our mosquitoes and how bad they can be, but it’s all true. They are big, they are ravenous, and they won’t take no for an answer!
They want our BLOOD!
Sometime around Easter in the South, among all the candy, baskets, and bunnies, you’ll begin to see the citronella candles, the bug zappers, and all the exterminator companies begin to run specials promising you a “bite free” summer. These products may slow down the attacks but believe me…there will be bites.
And then the FLIES! Oh dear Lord…those FLIES! They are the bane of my existence!
They torment me every year. I absolutely HATE them! They get inside our house and target me. They KNOW how much I hate them so they follow me. They dive bomb me…they delight in my frustration… sometimes I even think they are laughing at me.
But as much as I hate the little suckers, I also hate to kill things. I catch spiders and lizards and release them. I even have a bee catching kit handy for when they get caught on the porch and can’t figure out how to get out.
Flies are too fast for that. They don’t hover or crawl like a bee…they dart. They zoom. So they must die.
My husband, Marty, doesn’t understand my reluctance to kill them. He has walked in on me trying to reason with the little buttheads, and even though he won’t admit it, I think he worries about me.
But I’m just trying to be fair. I tell them if they stay, I will kill them. I promise to make it as quick and painless as possible, but I tell them they have to leave. Sometimes I resort to begging them to leave and showing them how to get out the door.
That was one of the times Marty walked in.
“Whatcha doin’, Julia? Talking to the flies again?”
“Yep…trying to convince them to leave the premises.”
“Any luck?”
“Nope…looks like we’re gonna have some fly funerals. I’ve opened both doors, but these two seem determined to stay.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Baby, but now you have four.”
“FOUR? What?! HOW??? There were only two!”
“Well, when you opened the door, they must have yelled to their friends because two more are over here.”
I can’t really print what was said after that, but suffice it say, if The Rapture happened at that moment… I wouldn’t have been taken. I think even Marty was shocked at my language and that’s saying something. But if I DO get to Heaven when my time comes, rest assured I will be asking to speak to Noah to find out WHY he had to bring the %$#&^%$@#$% flies on the Ark!
I’m Just Saying…
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