Quit Bugging Me

Somehow…almost miraculously…summer has returned to the Northeast. With little fanfare or much in the way of advance notice, summer came barreling in…pushing the remnants of spring out of the way like some badly-behaved child, with temperatures in the nineties and nary a cloud in sight. All this heat has gotta be making the electric company pretty happy about now, I’m thinkin’.

So, tonight the crickets are chirping…the frogs are croaking…my flowers are wilting and the air conditioner’s a-humming.

Ah, summer…ya gotta love it.

The object of my affection (aka Mr. Clinton Kelly):

had a gig in Macy’s Honolulu today, but he’s evidently not sticking around to enjoy those sandy tropical beaches…duty calls back in The Big Apple for What Not to Wear. The man’s gotta be feeling the effects of all this traveling…I hope he’s got a good blog to keep him amused whilst racking up all those frequent flyer miles. (Hint, hint.) I’ll bet he’s perfected the art of sleeping in any venue by now…car, bus, plane, train.

While Mr. Kelly was off gallivanting around the Hawaiian Islands, the rest of us New Yawkers were celebrating the arrival of Saturday and doing our best to not pass out from the intense heat. We are nothing if not resilient, but you need to give us a little bit of a lead time when it comes to the full-blown heat of summer…some of us haven’t gotten our pools open, much less cranked up the central air. (How does that song go? “I can’t complain…but sometimes I still DO.”)

It’s just that I’m not quite ready to deal with the bugs.

It starts with the occasional annoying fly, causing us to tear through the house…trying desperately to remember where we put the one and only fly-swatter in attendance. (Have you noticed that it’s hard to find a good place to store something that’s so completely unsanitary and yet totally gross in its usage, but also needs to be in a convenient place where you can find it quickly on those rare occasions where nothing else will suffice?)

Then, we’ll start to see the moths show up…because there’s no getting around the fact that we’re opening and closing the sliders several times each evening to let Metro do his doggy-duty. I’d honestly like to invent an indoor bug-zapper…something decorative and totally chic…in many designer colors… (that hopefully would not leave many dead bugs scattered on the floor below it)…maybe with some special feature that would prevent the bugs from making that horrible (but totally acceptable, when one is out of doors) frying sound they make when they meet their untimely demise.

And don’t even get me started on those creepy-crawlie-things…you know the ones I mean…with about a thousand legs…really gross. This is where Mother Nature and I have seriously parted ways, as I’ve no desire to bring this aspect of the outdoors….in.

I’m sure all insects serve some benefit when in their natural habitat, but once they’re in MY domain, they’re about as welcome as mold on my bread…or fleas on my dog….or frogs in my pool.

Fuggetaboutit.