Trailer Park

I swear! The bug was 1 foot tall and had to weigh 10 pounds. I think.

~ Ron Walker ~ 36 Comments

What a great day yesterday was, then evening came and it was time for some rest. At 11 PM, I shut down the office, turn off the TV, and stand there speaking to Michelle in the kitchen. She is about to go out the back door, located off the kitchen, to the small shop to get a box. The shop is located outside on the deck. I decide to do the loving thing and walk with her.

We find a suitable box for what she needs, and start back into the door to the kitchen. That is when the craziness started.

I’m standing in the doorway, Michelle is still on the deck about to come in. She stops and asks “What is that.” She is pointing to a LARGE bug laying on the deck, about 1 foot from the doorway. Being the all American Macho Male, I tell her it is just a Cicada, don’t disturb it, they are loud. Then for whatever insane  reason, a thought comes to me, that I should flick it out into the yard with my shoe.

These things won’t hurt you really, they make you think they can by screaming and beating those large strong wings against you, while trying to grab you with the very efficient grappling hook legs.

“Flick!”. The bug screams as only a Cicada can, flies between and around Michelle’s legs, who is now screaming and flailing madly with her cardboard box. It then jets past me straight into the house, landing on the floor of the washroom just inside the door.

This is what they sound like, for those that have never had the pleasure.
https://youtu.be/xsxKTv24ME4

Michelle is hyperventilating, but still holding the door open and screaming at me to get it out. One more flick with the trusty running shoe towards the door. The stupid bug screams, flies into Michelle, then back into the house to land in the light fixture. I get the broom and try to get him to exit the upside down dish type of fixture cover. No Dice.

So, it’s down to removing the fixture to get him, and throw him out. I’m loosening the nut on the fixture when it decides it might be a good time to exit. It makes one really fast loop around the tiny washroom, smacks me square in the forehead, and disappears. I run to the office, grab my flashlight, and return shining the light around the baseboards, between the washer/dryer, around the freezer… I can’t find it.

Michelle points at me, jumps back and screams. I look down where she is pointing.

There sits the beast on my t-shirt glaring up at me. It has been attached with those super strong legs, the whole time I ran to the office and back. Naturally, I start trying to knock it off the t-shirt where he is attached about sternum level. The bug is screaming, Michelle is screaming, I’m screaming. I’m bouncing off the cabinets, appliances, Michelle, and the wall in that small 6X5 foot space. It looked like a re-enactment of the Matrix roof scene, where he dodges the bullets.

Michelle described it this way.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PiKV8WpVSK4

Why should a bug freak out a 200lb 5’10” man? Because as a teen I have a permanent memory of one flying up the pants leg of the jeans I had on. There is nothing I have ever experienced since, worse than the terror of that thing buzzing and screaming around in my pants. I was wearing baggy jogging shorts last night. It would not not have been a pretty picture.

Anyhow, I dislodged the monster, it disappeared again. I flooded that area with Raid Flying Insect Spray till the room was a fog. Hopefully that got him, if not? I need to keep my phone handy to video it, if it makes an appearance and runs into grandma in the kitchen. It would go viral I’m sure.

Here are some facts for those that are not familiar with Cicadas. Apparently there are some people that like those things.

I really hope he has fallen behind the washer never to be seen again. I do not want to be watching one of the shows about haunted houses, and that thing lands in my lap.

Comments always welcome,

It’s not how fast you mow, it’s how well you mow fast!

~ Ron Walker ~ 18 Comments

The full moon was June 9th, which was this past Friday. It was quiet around here that day. Maybe this is just residual craziness left over that never took effect. Last night we had the impromptu fireworks at 9pm.

I was awakened this morning by the alarm at 5:30am. As I staggered for the coffee pot, I heard what sounded like a lawn mower. Couldn’t be a mower at this time of the morning. Peeking out of the office window blinds I see the resident handyman David, mowing along in the right-of-way area near the mailboxes. There is a plume of mist coming from under the mower, as it attempts to mow the wet, dew laden, grass.

https://youtu.be/ysTj89LH02Y

When I turned on the computers, the main one started it’s time lapse of the front area from the security webcam, it was dim outside. It looks lighter, but that is because the  camera is low light capable. You can see the vehicles passing on the roadway with their lights still on. Any darker and he would have needed a flashlight. It is a short snippet, someone comes and talks to him and he leaves soon afterwards.

Either the new park manager is a slave driver, or the poor fellow was in the heat too long yesterday. I swear it looked as if he had on Bermuda shorts, or his boxer briefs. He NEVER wears shorts. This is the same poor fella seen in an earlier post last year, “A hard day is relative”.

Whatever the reason, he stopped mowing when he was two-thirds finished. Maybe he was sleep mowing, and woke up. He’d probably been at it since 5am.

Comments welcome,

 

Tuesday: Fairies, Fireworks and Puppies.

~ Ron Walker ~ 17 Comments

A great Tuesday for smiles. The grand-daughter was over, and grandma had bought her some wings. She is 3 going on 4 and a bundle of smiles. Her hair is pulled up behind her head, she does have more hair than that. Only her grandpa is missing hair. 🙂
Of course Max had to check her out.

Baeliegh and Max

 

Then it was time to feed the new puppies. Everyone had a bottle to feed with or had the job of burping them.

Left to Right: Jessica (our daughter’s friend), Michelle, Marissa.

 

No night complete in the trailer park, without fireworks for no apparent reason. Second time in the last 3 days.

https://youtu.be/I5NJshtpaCw

Have a great night, comments welcome.

Karma and Irony are our friends, Trailer Park Awards for May.

~ Ron Walker ~ 36 Comments

I have been slacking in my posting lately. Projects here at home have kept me challenged but I am finally victorious!

The trailer park has been blissfully quiet for the last 2 weeks. It’s therefore time to chronicle the last major event. One that was unexpected, but welcome. Some of you will remember the mean, grumpy guy down the street. The one that argues with his neighbor all the time about her dogs.

There was a flurry of activity down his way for several days. The court had mercy on him and didn’t impose a sentence on him for the warrant that his neighbor signed on him. It probably helped that he arrived in a wheelchair, one amputated leg, pushed by his elderly father, who claimed to live with him and take care of him. They should get a Trailer Park Oscar. After the court appearance, he started doing things to aggravate the neighbor that had signed the warrant. Now they only have about 20 feet between his tiny camper and her fence line which is about 15 feet from her front door. So he wheels his dilapidated BBQ grill over to the fence, and burns obnoxious trash in it for 2 days. Plastic, rubber, dog poop.

During this time, Karma and Irony both must have tired of his antics. Your in deep trouble when Karma and Irony come for you. The county deputies came to his house one day on a call about a man and woman and 2 children in his house that refuse to leave. Then we hear of another call to the back row where his parents live, you remember, the ones that fly their confederate flag also and asked their neighbor not to have Negroes (they used the N word) visit him. The next day deputies arrive and take him off to jail. He’s been gone 2 weeks.

What better irony, than the ones that helped keep you out of jail by lying for you, signing a warrant on you. We are all thinking of throwing a neighborhood party in honor of his present residence in the county jail. You know, maybe we should give bozo a name. Let’s Call him Johnny Reb from now on if we have to write about him.

Official Trail Park Ass-hat Award
  • Awards:
    Johnny Reb and his father (and the wheel chair) get a Court Oscar for their performance of “Pitiful Redneck”, that kept him out of jail.
  • Johnny Reb also receives recognition, and official status, of “Ass-hat” of the trailer park. (Applause)
  • Karma and Irony deserve special mention for dumping so hard on Johnny Reb.
  • We would also like to thank his parents, who somehow managed to get fed up enough, they decided to sign him up for an all expense paid stay at the county facility, where he can relax, have his meals delivered to him, and play volley ball in the sports area. (Thunderous Applause!)

We are back to quiet days. Only the early morning put-put-put of the maintenance man’s riding mower, as he trundles down the highway to the service station for a cup of coffee. The sound of the neighbor 2 doors down, working in his forge making knives out of old steel.  Oh yes, and the lady next door, dog-cussing her fur babies till they finally get tired and come in the house. Life is good…

Comments always welcome,