Humidity Blues

Now that the heat's here, so is, yes, the humidity. It blankets every act you commit outside and every single step you take. Mike can just THINK about going outside and his shirt is soaked.

The guineas flew the coop yesterday. Mike cooked dinner and I went outside to check to see if the guineas had come out -- we've left the cage open for the third day and they finally decided it was cooler outside than inside the cage. But they weren't just walking around, they were bathing in the dirt. It reminded me of Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein and Teri Garr's "Roll, roll, roll in the hay.." scene. Only four guineas made the jump, with two squawkers inside the coop who didn't quite understand the concept of an open door.

We saw Star Wars III for the second time yesterday and came home around 6:30 when Mike decided to check the trap for predators. He thought something was amiss because Barbecue was barking like crazy and acting a little weird. She knew there was something trapped, but didn't quite find the English words to tell us, "Hey, Dudes, something's in the trap." Stupid dog.

So off Mike went and Barbecue apparently got to the trap before he did... and then Mike saw that another raccoon had visited us over the last two days, taking the chicken-parts bait that we left in the trap.

We did the humane thing again, using the truck's exhaust and a garbage bag to do the deed...

It was kind of a crazy night, but very delightful and funny in other ways.

The tomatoes are getting out of hand, but they're not quite ripe just yet. I pickled a batch of jalapenos (two pint-sized mason jars) and put some in a bowl for us to try them out. They are spicy hot, but only after the first bite. But then you get down-on-your-knees-say-jalapeno-luya-scream-like-you-mean-it hot. It's the sandy soil what does it, methinks.

Off to never-never land...

Kristi