ALARMS

Poor Miss Creative.  Wait.  Did I just say that?  "Poor" Miss Creative?  Not "ridiculous" Miss Creative?  Or "absurd" Miss Creative?  I must be...softening.  Not a good sign.  Anyway.  Miss Creative has been...well, over-reacting to things.  All day long.  The first episode was about the "evidence of fire ants" in the back yard.  But look at this photo.  There are No Actual Fire Ants in sight.  (Or ants of any other kind, for that matter.)  This "evidence" could have been caused by any number of things.  Like...um...high temperatures?  Cactus spines?  The neighborhood dog barking?  Probably nothing at all to do with fire ants.  And even if it is fire ants---so what?  Maybe they're...tasty.

The next episode was over these five-foot weeds in the back yard.   I'm not fond of weeds myself.  They're a pathetic specimen of the plant world.  Nothing like pine trees---or even oaks or maples.  But you humans are always chain-sawing things down.  Mowing things down.  Weed-whacking things down.  Why not just put one of those infernally noisy machines to work for a few minutes?  Presto.  No more weeds.  So QUICK AND EASY.  (But not for Miss Creative, of course.)

The next meltdown was about the "black widow spiders".  Look at this photo.  A close-up of one of our house windows.   Do you see Miss Creative's black widow spider?  No?  That is because there is no black widow spider there.  Black widow spiders do live in this climate.  I've seen them.  And I'm DELIGHTED about that.  Those crunchy black morsels are...well, they're candy for folks like me.  Nocturnal morsels.  As I am.  (Nocturnal, that is.  Not a morsel.)  So convenient.  But poor Miss Creative---oops.  There I go again.  Pitiful Miss Creative---NO.  Stupid Miss Creative over-reacted again.  One black widow spider under a pile of leaves doesn't mean thousands creeping all over the house and yard.  (Unfortunately.  What a repast THAT would be.) 

I'm not sure how much more I can stand.  The episodes, I mean.  Right now Miss Creative is having tea and cookies.  Let's hope she...well, takes a nap.  Or something.  For my sake, at least.