The school year summer is over even though the technical summer lives on. (And the temperature summer lives on and on and on until mid-October when we can finally put on a long sleeve shirt as long as it's made of a light, breathable cotton fabric. No sweater needed until November.)
I think a summary of my summer activities is in order. In no particular order:
1. When I last blogged I had just gotten home from a top secret trip to New York that I couldn't reveal at that time. You can read all about it here.
2. I got pretty excited about Shark Week like I always do, but I got sidetracked during that week so I recorded a bunch of the shows so I could enjoy all the oceanic terror at a later date. But then I discovered that watching shark shows after Shark Week is kind of like celebrating your birthday after your actual birth date. It's anti-climatic. So, bummer. I'm just not there any more. (I also discovered that AMC's Mob week coincided with Shark Week. My DVR was busy that week. I still haven't watched any of it.)
3. The grass grows overnight here and just when I think I'm all caught up, the thought pops into my head that a snake really is a lot harder to see in 6-day old grass as opposed to 2-day old grass. So I have been mowing quite a bit.
4. And speaking of snakes (and I feel TOTALLY bad about this, I really do), I hacked a snake to death earlier this summer with a dull-edged garden tool. This really was one of my darkest moments, but in my defense, I felt I had little ones to protect and at our house we place the well-being of humans over the lives of serpents.
My niece, Zoe, was visiting from Missouri and we wanted to go swimming in our little laying-out pool. As I was walking toward the pool, I saw a huge, I mean HUGE snake slithering toward me at a very aggressive speed, and he did not seem the least bit spooked by our presence even though every animal show I watch promises that wild animals are much more afraid of us than we are of them. (It's like he knew me and was coming over to speak.) My mom was walking slightly behind me with Zoe when the hollering started. And she was all "Lorie, you've got to do something!" So without really thinking too much about what I was doing, I quickly retrieved the first thing I saw which was this rusty garden tool thingie (I don't know the technical name for it) from the shed, and with the combination of my adrenalin surging, my mom screaming "KILL IT! KILL IT!" and the bearing down of the hot noon sun, I started chopping the poor creature until I had four snakes, not one.
And then I threw my bloody garden tool down and the voices stopped.
In retrospect, I wish I would have just thrown rocks at it to scare it away, because later after my husband and I went outside to examine the remains, he informed me that it wasn't a poisonous snake, it was a "good" snake that ate rats, and I really should have let it live. (And I felt the eyes of a thousand rats staring at me from the foliage, not unlike the munchkins did to Dorothy after her house landed on the witch. I am sure by now they have erected a statue in my likeness and pronounced me their RAT QUEEN.) Then he gave me a little lesson on how to tell if a snake is poisonous or not by how the eyes are set in the head and the shape of the head, but seriously? If I encounter another snake at close range in my lifetime, I can't promise I'm going to take the time to examine it's head and eyes. I've seen the river scene in Lonesome Dove too many times.
Still, I wish I had let it live (mostly because I hate rats), and the whole hacking part still haunts me. This is the most violent act I have ever committed in my entire life.
I wonder if Lizzie Borden started this way?
4. To change the subject, Richard and I have really gotten into the Next Food Network Star. Maybe it's because we just visited the Food Network Studios, but we are really looking forward to the grand finale on Sunday. Richard wants Susie to win, but I like Jeff because I would totally watch a sandwich show. We both agreed Penny is a snake in the grass (heh) and we were happy to see her booted off the show, even though it was about three shows too late. She could cook, however. But she really needs to tie her hair back. And also, gosh, be nicer?
(I know. That coming from a snake killer. I have ruined my good reputation as a nice person.)
*Update. I started this post on Saturday. Today is Monday. The finale was last night. We have recorded it, but have not yet watched it, so I will try and stay off social media today because I don't want to know the outcome until later. This is gonna be hard.
6. Brayden turned two. He has a big boy bed now. He's speaking in little choppy sentences. There is talk of potty training. And my plan to be called "Lolli" isn't working out so far. It sounds more like "Mammy." I'm not sure why he can't get it right, but he really needs to get with the program.
He still likes trains. And mud puddles.
7. At the beginning of the June, I decided I would make friends with summer and embrace him with open arms. That lasted through July 4. It has been all down hill since then.
8. And speaking of July 4, we had such a great day that day. We went to Frost Bridge to swim in the creek and slide down the rapids. (Does that sound like a completely redneck thing to do? I prefer the term country-style outdoor activity, thank you.)
Anyway, the creek was very low and even though I have issues with swimming in water that is not clear enough to see my toes, I jumped right in and had a good ol' time. Of course, we had to go early in the morning before the party crowd got there with their coolers of beer and loud music, but we had it all to ourselves for a couple of hours. It was nice. I resisted the urge to hillbilly handfish, even though it's so tempting to stick my arm in a muddy water hole and feel around in the debris and rocks for a monster catfish, but Isaac caught a nice bass the old fashioned way. With a fishing rod.
Afterwards, we went home, hung out, had a shrimp boil, homemade ice cream, homemade peach pie, then fireworks at the annual fire works show in State Line.
Fun times.
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