Trash Cans, Crocodile Dundee, Frog Legs and Grasshopper Whoppers

My struggle with nature continues. You see, alas, I have moved to the KUN-CHER-EEE.
I am still sitting in the midst of boxes, albeit fewer than before, but in the midst of boxes nonetheless.
It's one thing when you move from house to house or neighborhood to neighborhood. In those cases, you can still rely on the old faithful things you know. Same people, dry cleaners, grocery store, but I have moved to a different city and I am just lost. Where I have moved the grabage company does not provide trash cans, and since, as a result of my move, I have a lot of trash, I found myself in need of the "man-supermarket", AKA Home Depot. I looked it up on the internet, found an address and then tried to put it in my trusty (or so I thought) navigation system. After 20 minutes of trying, I decided to give it a go and just drove in the general direction that I thought it was in. Well, I drove around in circles and ended up there quite accidently, but not before I called relatives on the phone and told them which exit at the highway I would be last seen at. A girl can never be too careful, especially one with serious topographical aphasia like me. I found the trash can and a man to put it on my SUV alas, Home Depot is a serve yourelf kind of establishment. No one asks if you'd like help to your car. Sigh.
At home this morning, I loaded up the trash, we had extra, so being the rocket scientist that I am, I deided to use my kid's wagon to get the trash where it needed to be. HO! HO! I live at the top of a MEGA hill, and the end of my drive is at the bottom. I know I looked like a bad cartoon as I alternated between chasing the wagon down the hill and having it chase me.
When I finally made it back to the top, I discovered my cat had killed a big ass frog, right in front of my house. It looked like the poor critter was in mid jump and the cat just whacked it out of the air. That'll teach that frog to cross the line! My city slicker kids thought it was a dead bird laying there. I explained it to them and looked at the potential frog leg dinner. I didn't know how I was going to get the frog guts cleaned up and off the pretty walkway in front of my house, when the doorbell rang. I had an appointment to discuss the business of lawn cutting with a vendor. Okay, so you already know the issues I am having wih nature, so why risk it? Rather than dealwith sharp instruments it was obvious I needed to find someone to do the job. So, I swung open the door and I was speechless.
Crocodile Dundee wanted to be my lawn man.
No, I really was speechless. He was REALLY pretty.
Like, Damn.
The universe was being good to me.
Mercury Retrograde, who?
He just talked and I just said yes. Not sure what I signed but I hope it was a contract for lawn service. And you know what, he offered to take care of my frog problem. I thought all was finally good.
This evening, as I sat on my patio, contemplating the city lights down yonder over the hill, I noticed that it suddenly looked like there was a stick growing out of my ottoman. I leaned closer, thinking that maybe it was coming unravelled and would need some sewing. I realized then I was looking at a grasshopper, nose to nose. I screamed, it jumped and flicked me on my nose.
Are grasshoppers carnivores?
Lawd, Ha'mercy Jesus, Mohammed and Buddha, what next?

Comments

Anonymous said…
...next will come coyotes, deer, roadrunners and perhaps a snake or three... hope mr. dundee has a knife.

;-)

houseboy
Karen said…
This entry cracked me up.

I'm 100% city. I can't deal with frogs, grasshopers, turtles, 'gators...

I could, however, deal with a pretty handyman.

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