I was going to tell you all about our new cat (Zoe) we got two weeks ago, but Katcha was spectacularly and explosively unwell this past weekend so I didn’t have a lot of time to ponder the post and polish it up to expected level of … something that also starts with a “p” . It’s just as well really because all I had was how I feel like a pirate digging for buried treasure every time I get to clean out the litter box. Only with clumps of cat detritus replacing the doubloons and pieces of eight. After that she’s just sorta a cat. She does cat stuff. Eh. She will hide behind the Little Woman’s sneakers until Lucy strolls by and then jump out to attack her and then run away. That’s kinda funny since you can see her behind the sneakers but Lucy plays along since they’re friends that way. Other than that, nothing.
But I was attacked by a praying mantis yesterday. It was horrible. I feared for my life.
OK, it isn’t that bad since it was only three inches long and I didn’t know it was attacking me until it shook it off, but it could have been scary.
Yesterday I was washing stuff in the driveway. First I got out the pressure washer and cleaned off the boys’ picnic table since it was covered with grunge and it’s been really nice so it seemed like a good idea to eat out on the back porch al fresco. So that called for a de-grunging of the picnic table. After that I had to de-grunge the big picnic table so us grown-ups had a clean place to eat too. Which meant I also had to clean off the chairs so we’d have a place to sit. But I had a power washer, so it wasn’t like it was work.
(Guess whose idea it was to eat outside. Go ahead, guess. Hint: not mine. OK, now guess who changed her mind after I cleaned all the stuff and we didn’t eat outside after all. Hint: again, not me.)
After I power washed, since I had the hose out and everything, I decided I should wash the cars. Both of them. No big since they’re just little cars. And they both really needed to be washed. So I stuck the power washer under a tree and set all the now de-grungified yard furniture in the sun to dry and washed the cars. (I should keep a small bottle of lemon scented dish soap back just for washing the cars. That way they’ll smell all lemony and the garage will smell nice too. We don’t get the lemony scented dish soap regularly since Sam’s Club doesn’t carry it by the bucket. So I need special lemony dish soap for the cars.)
When it was time to put all the junk away, I just grabbed the power washer and wheeled (it has wheels) it into the garage where it goes. Only about halfway in I felt something stuck to my hand. So I let go of the power washer handle and shook my hand to get whatever it was off. A praying mantis (Did you ever watch that super hero show a buncha years ago on FOX, M.A.N.T.I.S.? Or was it just me? The M.A.N.T.I.S. guy is on Alias now, but without the super suit.) shot off my hand and plopped onto my car! It almost skittered off since the car was so squeaky clean. But it caught on and didn’t fall.
I had to go get a scooper out of the sandbox so I could scoop up the mantis and put it outside. If I didn’t, sure as anything it would have crawled into the Little Woman’s car and jumped out at her when she was driving. Then she would totally freak out (probably screaming “A mantis! A mantis” like that) and crash into a big truck on the way to work. No one wants that, so I took the mantis outside and flicked it back under the tree the power washer was sitting under. (My brother, Skippy, says it a “river birch”. I dunno, it just looks like a tree. But if he says so I guess it’s a river birch. Why would he lie about something like that?)