(In my head I just said that in a deep masculine drawl kind of like a cowboy in a western leaning on a wooden hitchin' post picking his teeth with the sharpened end of a matchstick ... )
Now I know I left you all on tenterhooks after my last post with my cryptic remark right at the end about not wanting the weekend in Swanage to end especially when I came home and found something ...
It was a cunning ploy and one designed to have you hanging on the edge of your seats just BEGGING me to tell you why and what ... and why ... and WHAT???
Sadly NOT ONE single solitary person begged me at all ...
So I'm going to tell you anyway!
We have fleas ...
I know - I can't believe I'm telling you either but well, we don't have secrets do we?
Plenty of fleas but NO secrets!
I really thought that having forked out over 60 bloody quid for flea stuff for the animals and house. Covering myself in scratches from head locking cats trying to escape my little vials of pest killer and alienating my poor dog Gus who now spends most of his time peering balefully at me from under the coffee table that we had cracked the problem.
I have washed EVERYTHING on a boil wash (except for the pets) - I have sprinkled toxic substances all over my carpets which left my house smelling like a Nana's cleavage. I (and when I say I - I obliviously mean SD) spent 4 HOURS vacuuming every nook and cranny in my house pulling out every bit of furniture.
I've (and this time I really do mean I) wiped down all the skirting, DVD's, hard floors and work surfaces with cider vinegar (which apparently fleas hate) until Nana's cleavage was obliterated by the smell of chip shop and then I went away for the weekend thinking that we were done!
Five minutes after being back in the house SD found a bloody flea on him!
Funnily enough they don't seem to like me. They like climbing SD's leg hair (he's kind of like a hirsute adventure playground for parasites ...) and they bite Miss Mac to buggery but me they hate and it's MUTUAL!
We started again with different stuff which fortunately didn't smell at all which was a bonus - sadly it didn't bloody WORK either!
We deflead the animals AGAIN - we vacuumed AGAIN (that's 3 times in a single week - OUTRAGEOUS!) and the little buggers are STILL making themselves at home!
SO - last night I salted my entire house ...
We have gone from Nana's cleavage to chip shop to ... well, MORE chip shop (please feel free to come and baste your cod in my carpets ... ).
According to google salt has the same affect on fleas as it does slugs and dehydrates them UNTIL THEY ARE DEAD! (to be honest, I'm willing to believe ANYTHING right now).
Talking of slugs ...
I was curled up on the sofa watching a film with SD the other night (Tropic Thunder - very funny in a VERY un PC way ...) and I got up to get a glass of water (actually, I really got up to go to the loo but you don't need to know that ...) and I trod on a SLUG!!!
There was a slug ON MY CARPET IN MY FRONT ROOM AND I TROD ON IT!!!
AAAARUUUGGG - It's not the FIRST time I've trodden on a slug obviously - I once skidded half way across the decking on a big MoFo but this was in my front room and I had no shoes on!
I screamed a
SD proving his devotion to me grabbed a handful of paper towel and carefully wiped the remains of squashed slug from between my toes murmuring soothing things to me as I moaned and gagged some more and then boil washed my bloody foot.
And that's NOT the worst thing that's happened in the last week!
I KNOW - seriously???
Actually, it WAS the worst in reality but not potentially ...
All men have their foibles don't they?
Some are dry humpers and it's not safe to unload the washing machine without first checking behind you (as I once said - HOW is it sexy to dry hump someone wearing a washing machine drum like a bloody sombrero? I don't WANT to be jammed shoulder deep into a cave full of your dirty kecks having a layer taken off my chin as it grates back and forth on the metal interior of my Bosch Maxx 5 thankyouverymuch!)
Some are gropers and will absentmindedly grab a handful as you pass by carrying a dish full of roast potatoes.
Mostly this is entirely unconscious and intended as a physical demonstration of affection.
Well, SD doesn't do either of those things but he does have a bit of a penchant for a bare shoulder and will often sidle up behind me if I happen to be wearing a vest top or bikini or whatever and, sliding his arms around my waist, take a bloody great CHUNK out of my shoulder with his teeth (and yes - it HURTS!!).
I couldn't seem to break him of the habit and believe me - I HAVE tried.
So the other day I was hanging out the washing. It was really hot and I was just wearing shorts and a bikini top. SD came out to give me a hand and was overcome by the sight of bare brown flesh.
My hands were full of damp laundry and I was powerless to resist as I felt his incisors pierce my skin and then ...
Leaping back in horror SD spat something out!!!
He coughed and choked and gagged slightly ...
I dropped the washing and ran to his aid ...
SD was peering at something in his hand - he looked at me, eyes streaming - 'I think I just bit off a mole!!!' he said.
We looked at each other in silence - we looked at the 'mole' in his hand - I gingerly felt my shoulder for damage before remembering I didn't actually HAVE any moles on my shoulder even before SD bit it ...
I looked closer at the 'mole' - then I remembered that earlier, as I'd reached for the breakfast cereal, it had tipped slightly spilling some of the content down on to me. I guess a rogue piece had got caught in my hair or something and so in fact no, SD hadn't inadvertently bitten off a mole.
He had just found a bit of second hand muesli!
But I'm hopeful his biting habit may now have been cured ....