The Land of Enchantment

I was minding my own business in my own home when a lumbering, giant cockroach was trying to make his/her way across my living room floor. Grossed and completely freaked out I grabbed my near by tennis shoe and squashed it in it's tracks. I lifted my shoe to find it laughing at me on it's back. Again I struck as hard as I could attempting to muffle the silent giggles of my very disgusting house guest. Once the laughter was silenced, I grabbed an entire roll of paper towels to pick up the unwanted intruder and throw his now flattened behind out into the trash can outdoors. I never throw them away in the house for fear that they merely playing dead and will rise up and hide in my bed.

I am not afraid of many things. I am afraid of bugs, mostly really big hairy, scary bugs, snakes and rats. I am afraid of heights, but because I am so cheap will climb whatever ladder necessary in order to spare myself the expense of hired help.

I live in a place whose only similarities to the north are maybe New York city, with the rats and cockroaches, minus the noise and benefit of public transportation. There is a bayou out back behind our house. It's not the kind of bayous, like we see on TV that exist in other places in the south, but rather a giant drainage ditch, where rats, snakes and other sundry creatures call home. The benefit to living on a bayou is when it rains here, a collective sigh of relief can be heard by all who live near the largest drainage receptacle. Flooding here is a real problem and any help offered to diffuse the problem is gladly accepted.

For the most part, I like living in Texas. The bug/rat conundrum is something I have had to get used to in time. Everything really is bigger in Texas, including our pests. I was thinking about the Dali Lama and how he never kills a bug. It's so impressive to me how he respects every living thing. I, however, am not that evolved. I will squash a bug in a heart beat. My fear of their dirty little legs is bigger than my respect for their right to be here. They can be here, as long as here doesn't include my living room.

Tom and I were sitting outside enjoying the cooler, drier air, when we suddenly saw a little rat climb one of our trees and begin munching on the fall berries. He was quite sweet looking, with an air of innocence about him. Schnitzel, our wiener, had been chasing after him for days. Up until that point, we hadn't actually seen what creature Schnitzel had been torturing. Tom and I sat quietly while the little guy picked and munched his way through all the fruit. I was telling Mike, sometime later, about the rat and how cute he looked. Mike looked at me as though I had three heads and said, "Kel, rats aren't cute. They breed disease and flees. They multiply faster than you think, and if we don't get a handle on this it could turn into a real problem for us."

Sure enough, as if scripted, the flees did show up and I began to see how this one rat could start an avalanche of problems for us. Mike said he would look into a trap that wouldn't effect the dogs. I reluctantly agreed, however innocent he looked, he was a threat to every body's well being. The next day Schnitzel was outside in our garden, deep in the hunt of the rat who had been hiding in there. Mike was standing next to the garden on the pool deck when the rat quickly jumped out of the garden across Mike's foot and Mike kicked the little bugger into the pool. The rat was swimming across the pool when Mike, with the most impressive reflexes I have ever seen, grabbed the pool skimmer, scooped him up and hurled him over the fence as hard as he could. The rat became air born and flew like a Hail Mary pass in an NFL game. We have not seen him since.

Betty and I love the Disney movie Enchanted. My favorite part is when the rats, cockroaches and pigeons come into the apartment to "clean-up". In my life, there is no magic big enough to make these critters adorable. Even Mickey Mouse would be grossed out by the giant spiders that hang around in invisible webs, crisscrossing the yard. Mike has swung a shovel as an ax to chop through snakes, as cleanly as an iron chef. I have vacuumed up as many bugs as I care to think about, and the kids have all had their own harrowing stories of things that make one go, "Ewwww!"

As I stated earlier, I really like living in Texas. But I totally understand why they are considered to be a hardier people. Our sunshine comes at a cost I had to get used to paying. Down here, you have to pay to play in the land of enchantment.