I always feel reborn in the summer. I feel so different! the sun shines on me and I stretch like a cat, and shake like a bird. If I had wings they would ruffle. Ohio is so pretty in the summer. It smells good where we are. This morning I sat on the balcony and watched 2 deer chewing around in my garden. There’s that, oh well, I guess they need it. They looked right at me; they knew I was there. I stood up to go to the can and they (oxymoron alert) slowly bolted, it was the most amazing thing. It was like watching them run in slow motion or something. I hope they didn’t think I was going to hurt them…but if they ever watched me from the woods throwing things at the gross possums I am sure they think me a villian.

The possums tried to take over our garage this past winter. Once I came home in the early morning and one huge fat one was hanging from the rafters, it was so nasty and creepy. I didn’t see it until I got out of the car, then I looked up and saw it staring at me with it’s gleaming beady eyes and bloated, blotchy, diseased-looking face. I almost yakked right there, but I was so scared it would drop onto my head I quickly backed out of the garage, I didn’t even shut the car door. I tried to get Brian to get up and go chase it away, but he laughed at me and cited my feminism. I wanted to kick him for that. I said please Brian! Go deal with this, it’s so ugly and gross. He said well what if I weren’t here? What if I were dead? and so on and so forth until I felt like an immature woman for not being strong enough to deal with a monstrous, beady-eyed, stank wild creature. WTF is the point of having a husband if they don’t deal with the stank wild creatures?? LOL.

I gathered up my cats to get the creature, but they both took one look at this thing, hissed, and ran away. I threw various things at it, it never once took it’s eyes off me. I felt too hypnotized to do more than make half-assed throws at it, not even coming close to hitting it. Finally when I picked up an ice skate it dropped to the floor and gamboled off. It made a wet fart noise when it hit the floor and left a trail of something, some gooey mess, probably poop. It smelled like rotting meat. I wouldn’t have really thrown the ice skate at it because the sharp edge might have hit it, cut it open, then I would have been scarred for life being sprayed with possum blood and intestinal matter, or those little eyes popping and hitting my face. I was so nervous and jittery from the whole thing I had to go running for an hour and then soaked in the tub for an hour. My kids made me retell the story over and over again, my boys making gross jokes like they would have stuck it on a stick and left it in the yard as a warning to other possums. Yuck!

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