Life is good out here in the hills. I have great hiking right outside my door. This morning, I decided to linger a little longer in bed rather than set out on a walk at my normal time because apparently God or the angels or somebody had a leak in their flour bag and there’s a light dusting of white stuff on the ground, mostly in the shadow areas where the sun has yet to touch. And Lexi just informed me that she saw a coyote trotting past our front porch as happy as you please. Hobbit’s twenty-five pounds. The bed is warm, the tea is hot, the walk can wait.
One of the challenges of living on the edge of wilderness is that it has a way of behaving as though you’re not on the edges at all and moving right in with you. You learn to deal with it. Flies, gnats, weird looking bugs invading your house and exploring your walls; squirrels chewing through your floor to store piñon nuts around your furnace? Whatever. Catch them, kill them, block and chase them off, whatever you’re gonna do about them and move on with your day. Deal with it.
Lately, I have discovered some really tiny red mite looking things in my bathroom. Mostly they wander the window sills and panes, occasionally they meander on the bathroom floor. This morning, they decided the toilet was interesting. I figured just a few of them on the pedestal. Squish, squish, leave a tiny reddish splotch to wipe off and no biggie. That is, until I caught sight of the space between the bowl and the seat. EW!!! I guess they decided under the toilet seat was the perfect place for a family reunion or to train the troops or I dunno! Seeing as how they’re so tiny, it must have taken them a very long time to make their way up the toilet and onto the rim. Maybe it was Sunday morning prayer time and had I waited another hour or so, they’d have been done and moved on with me none the wiser.
Normally, I’m totally okay with bugs. Mass collections of them (especially if they’re tiny like little ants or tiny reddish mite thingies) give me the heebies and bring out the buggy exterminator in me. A kind of mad “EW! EW! EW!” squish, squish, slap, slap fever overtakes me until the last little crawly is a flattened memory to be wiped away with soap and water and a modicum of my sanity. Bathroom paper to the rescue and joy that the little buggers were so easily flattened. I’m all for living in harmony with the wild things just as long as they aren’t being too wild in my space, doggos and kittehs excepted. Taking over my toilet is much too wild. I don’t shriek, other than maybe a shouted/snarled “EW!”, but I do kill. Quickly. Without mercy. Sometimes gleefully. Not this morning, though. Just an “EW!” and efficient squish wiping out of the offending tiny creatures. Go commandeer someone else’s potty, you mildly disturbing tiny creatures.