The Bad Egg

Yes, our back fence neighbor’s pomegranate tree exists no longer. I was riding my bike with The Dog by the house and saw the owner in the front yard. I started a pleasant conversation with him to find out why he cut the tree down!

Twenty minutes later, after getting a tour of all the remodeling he’s done (he bought the house about 3 months ago in order to flip it), and commenting on all the nice upgrades, I casually asked if me and The Dog could check out the backyard. He said, “Go right ahead.” So I did. I immediately saw the massacre he had committed against the pomegranate tree. It was gone, gone, gone. Brutally chainsawed through the trunk.

I kind of looked around, and then, totally nonchalantly, said, “Oh, it looks like you did a lot of work back here. I hope it wasn’t too much work to cut that tree down.”

“Oh yeah, no big deal,” he said.

“Really? That’s cool, cause it seemed like it would be a lot of work with how full and heavy it looked with all those hundreds of pomegranates.”

“Yeah,” he said, and then grinned. “I just got in the mood to clear things out one day, so I did. I came out here with my chainsaw and cut everything down.”

“Huh,” I said, trying not to choke or to let my facial expression turn into a scowl. “I had my eye on a couple of the pomegranates hanging over the fence, but yeah, I guess I can see how chainsawing down fruit trees cause you’re ‘in the mood’ would make sense. Bastard!”

(Okay, I didn’t say those last couple of sentences. All I managed was a “Huh” and then I said I needed to take The Dog home cause he was thirsty.)

Whatever. It’s this guy’s house and he can do whatever he wants to it. But still, I long for what could have been:

Something’s happened.

Not in our backyard, but in one we share a fence with. I’ll have more details later when I can better investigate, but all I can say for now is that someone cut down a pomegranate tree. A pomegranate tree that, as of last week, had been heavy with almost-ripe pomegranates. Almost-ripe as in ripe in just a couple more weeks … I feel sick.

Here’s how the S.O. describes this picture:

A candlelight dinner on the verandah, overlooking the pool as the cool summer breeze filters through the orchard.

There was no breeze, it was still about 98 degrees outside, and yes, that’s a kiddie pool. It’s all about imagination

Another angle of our ‘candlelight’ dinner. Wine, salad, potatoes and grilled chicken–no, not one of the girls

Remember when I described our first day in the new place? Or maybe you remember how the animals tried to intimidate us, and then the plants attacked too? Of course, the house really took the situation up a notch when it actively used my dreams against us.

The house’s next move is beyond all that.

Between me and The S.O. we have one car. It’s a nice, well-maintained 2005 Honda Element. We are lucky enough to have a detached garage, so the car goes in there. Sometimes we lock the car, sometimes not. Sometimes we roll the windows up, sometimes we don’t. The garage is a pretty safe place from burglary, so we don’t worry about it too much.

The other day, I needed to run some errands. Off I go into the garage. I find the windows rolled down in the car, no big deal, we do that all the time. I had an appointment in South Sac so I jumped on the freeway, blasted the radio and began singing along.

Suddenly this big black thing dropped from the passenger side visor. It stopped and hung in mid-air. My palms turned sweaty, my stomach flip-flopped, my ears started ringing … it can’t …. be … it’s a freakin’ BLACK WIDOW!

How did I know it was a black widow? Well, as I tried to ignore the sickening lurches of fear in my stomach the freeway began to curve.

I needed to turn the steering wheel (you know, in order to not cause an accident). Without getting into the physics of motion, etc., let’s just say that the spider began SWINGING side to side in mid-air. I got a very good look at this spider’s belly and its vibrant red hourglass:

I had enough presence of mind to realize that any further jerks or spasms on my part would bring that red hourglass up-close and personal with my face. I managed to remain in control of my body (no jerking), but I had to stay inside the white lines!!! OH MY GOD!

Finally, the freeway straightened out. I figured this was my chance to get off the road. I turned my blinker on, kept both hands on the left side of the steering wheel, pressed the side of my face almost up against the window and began changing lanes while keeping one eye on the spider.

Remember that whole physics of motion thing? Yeah, that happened again. I spent a horrifying couple of minutes attempting to imperceptibly change lanes without increasing the swinging. Then, even when I left the freeway, I had to stop at a red light. This motion, combined with the side-to-side motion the black widow was already engaged in, sent the spider into a horrifying circle. During each revolution, I figured this was it, she was going to jump, or extend her silk and end up on my face. Lucky for me she didn’t.

I turned (careful, careful, watch the swinging!) onto a side street. I stopped and exploded out of the car. In my hurry, I fell and skinned my knee, but that’s ok because I ESCAPED THE BLACK WIDOW!

After my breath returned and the whole vomity feeling went away, I walked around to the passenger side of the car, yanked the door open, held my hefty Thomas Brothers Guide in both hands and whacked that spider to death against my dashboard.

Now we ALWAYS leave the car windows rolled up tight.

Some interesting facts about the black widow:

• Black widows are considered the most venomous spiders in North America.
• A black widow’s venom is 15 times stronger than a rattlesnake’s.
• The only reason the black widow venom is not likely to kill you is because a bite from a black widow releases a very small amount of venom compared to a rattlesnake.
• But the black widow’s venom can be fatal, especially to small children, the elderly and the infirm.
• Black widows really like mosquitoes and are a natural way to keep the mosquito population in check, but is it really worth the potential bite?
• Oh yeah, chickens love to eat mosquitoes AND black widows!

I don’t plan to let the chickens in the car, but I may let them roam more of the backyard to encourage a thorough clean-up job.

Here are some examples of why we won’t let the new place intimidate us into staying inside …

I don’t know how the backyard managed to do it, but they attacked again last night while I was sleeping.

The Ivy

I dreamed the ivy had punched a hole in the roof above our bed, spread a web-like series of vines across the ceiling, then allowed the entrance for a couple of extremely large spiders that seemed about to drop on top of us.

Then, while I stared in horror at our bedroom ceiling, I realized The S.O. was sleeping on a bunch of insects–they’d breached the floor and made a new home under his pillow.

The Pillow

I yelled out a warning. I then grabbed his pillow and yanked it out from under his head to fight off the insects.

I shouted that the house was attacking us and yelled for him to get the fly swatter, or a broom, or a big fire torch to force back the spiders and ivy. I jumped onto my knees and began whacking the insects on the mattress with his pillow …

Oh, Darn It

The S.O. took the pillow out of my hands, spoke my name, then said “slow down, you’re dreaming.”

His words were a signal we’d developed over the last seven years. Even though I absolutely did not believe I was dreaming, I made myself go still, held my breath and then stared at the insects on the bed.

They finally disappeared (like when you get transported away in a Star Trek episode). I’d forced myself awake. That doesn’t mean I suddenly opened my eyes–my eyes were open the entire time.

This was all a dream–a night terror. Yes, I was asleep the entire time even though my eyes were open. Yes, I really did yell out in my sleep …

… And yes, I really did snatch the pillow from underneath The S.O.’s head and whack him with it

Not the First Time

Let’s just say this isn’t the first time that something like this has happened, though this one is the first night terror at the new house. It wasn’t fun to go through, but I start laughing now every time I picture the scene from The S.O.’s perspective (this woman yelling about bugs and ineffectually throwing a pillow around the room)–thankfully he also thinks it was pretty funny.

Night terrors and sleepwalking run in my family on my mother’s side. Supposedly, you are not supposed to remember the night terrors, but I always and vividly do. Supposedly, you’re not supposed to wake up a person who is in the middle of a night terror, but The S.O. always does, and I’m always glad when he brings me out of it. I think he’s glad too–since that means I’ll stop whacking him with a pillow

We’ve gone through this enough times that even though while in the middle of the dream I believe it’s real, him saying it’s a dream is enough to make me doubt, which is enough to sort of reset and wake me up. That’s my guess. It might not be the right explanation, but regardless, he always manages to make the big bad insects go away so I don’t really care about why it works, just that it does.

But still, I haven’t had a night terror in months. I’m putting the blame entirely onto this new backyard.

It’s trying to exploit my weakness and intimidate me, but I will not let it succeed!

Related Posts

Check out these posts for more information about the ongoing battle:

First Day in the New Place

Second Day in the New Place

It’s Not Just The Animals