Director Debbie's Camper Girl Round-Up

'Tis the Season

There is a rattle in the tree tops when the wind blows these days. The leaves are drying, turning crisp. Soon they'll fall. This is the season when all living, breathing things get the feeling the weather is gonna take a quick ride straight downhill very soon and they're looking for places to hide. Mouse traps snap. Squirrels are hoarding walnuts.

Friday at work I crossed paths with an eight-legged critter that had apparently decided it would be nice to spend the winter inside where it is warm. I went down to our employee dining room for a break and there, blocking my path to the coffee was a spider the size of a plate. He was hairy and scary. I didn't get close enough to see fangs, but I know they were there. It was HUGE and frankly, I'm not adequately armed for these kinds of encounters. As he poised to strike, I grabbed for the nearest weapon available and was in the process of drowning him with a spray bottle of window cleaner when a very thoughtful, BRAVE co-worker whose foot was barely bigger than the body of this thing............gallantly squished him with his shoe.
Whew.

The next morning I stepped from the shower and pulled a favorite silky nightshirt from a hook on the back of the bedroom door, slipped it on and buttoned up the front. I was on the last button when I felt a little stab of pain in my.........chestal regions..........and thought to myself.........oh! there must be a pin stuck in here.

I unbutton the top button and pulled at the fabric to find the pin............and looked in there to find a huge wasp staring up at me. A wasp!!!!! Inside my shirt. INSIDE MY SHIRT. And I might be mistaken, but I think he had a little napkin tied around his neck and a knife and a fork in his little front wasp-feet.

I screamed bloody murder and literally ripped every single one of the tiny silk-wrapped buttons off my favorite nightshirt as I tore it off. They went flying all over the room. I looked down at my chest, realizing to my horror that the pin-prick was actually a sting and...........to put it in gently for the most delicate reader.........that wasp had come perilously close to a full frontal assault on my girls. A nasty welt was growing in the valley.

I beat the wasp to death with a 3-pound hand weight which kinda-sorta made me feel a little better. Not nearly better enough, but better.

Aghast!!! Assaulted in my own bedroom.
And not in a fun gee-this-is-one-for-the-diary kinda way either.
What next??? A raccoon in the linen closet?????
I have a feeling it's going to be a tough winter.