I kind of hate this time of year. And also love it. I am so damn conflicted. I am excited that it is fall, and, therefore, HALLOWEEN! AND THANKSGIVING! AND THEN HOLY CRAP CHRISTMAS!
But. I hate that September also brings with it this fickle, and terrible, weather. It's very much like an abusive boyfriend. <--I can say this statement because I've had one. It's the same. Almost. Really close.
I wake up in the morning and it's all cold and freezing and I am like, I will wear boots! And a sweater maybe! Or at least just boots! And then by noon, I am sweating like it's the deep south (that is NOT a euphemism). WTF California? And I should be used to this since I have experienced it almost every year for <cough> 30 <cough> years. There that boyfriend goes: hitting me again. I shouldn't expect anything else.
You know what else happens this time of year? (Now that we own a house)
Western Exterminator pays a visit. And soaks our yard with so much poison. DEATH TO CRAWLIES! (flips hair) Gawd, they use organic inside. Sheesh.
I really do not know what it is but our house always has spiders. And not just this house. All the ones we've lived in. There is obviously a common denominator: spiders are assholes.
But no really it's because we have dogs. And we leave windows open a lot and screen doors ajar for them to go in and out.
Last week we had the yard and house sufficiently soaked with poison to end the spider camp outs we disrupt when we go to bed... BECAUSE THEY ARE IN OUR BED.
For some reason we have yet to figure out, our house had an infestation of flies this past month. Like not 5 or 6, but very seriously like 12 at a time flying around. We would no sooner kill them when 6 more would pop up. I started glaring extra hard at the dogs to make sure they weren't pooping and hiding it.
Roxy would do that if she had the wherewithal.
So I thought, Ah ha! I know a solution! I will get those bag traps we use at the barn! They catch MILLIONS of flies! Except what I never realized is that those bags? How they catch flies? It's this bait in there that smells like 2,500 rotting carcasses all in one spot. I hung a bag from our stairs and within 45 minutes I was stopping my gag reflex any time I was on our first floor.
It. Was. Disgusting.
You know who loved it?
The dogs.
This is them: OMG THERE IS SOMETHING SO YUMMYGROSS OVER HERE!
Crazy Dog was standing on his feet, doing dances underneath the bag, sniffing the air as if the air was filled with truffles (Truffles are amazing. Stop).
Once Roxy got wind of it (literally), she then decided to be pissed any time Crazy Dog even looked in the direction of the stairs, where the bag was hanging.
If that animal so much as even shifted his body weight, Roxy was throwing him glares and snarly faces.
OVER ROTTEN FLY BAIT.
Why are my animals so stupid?
Even if it wasn't about to cause a dog fight and therefore spill blood all over my nice hardwood floors (and let's be honest, half the time I get worried about them fighting it's because I have no idea if blood will come out of our carpet/wood floors), it still smelled like sh!t.
So I moved it outside to hang under a tree. I figured if I already opened the package I might as well use it.