I'm outdoors every hour, trying to get this very little dog used to the idea that my hardwood floors aren't the best bathroom spot.
Anyway, as the panting dogs and I neared home (I was trying to keep the dogs' heads up so they wouldn't notice a little dead sparrow on the sidewalk) suddenly something hard, about the size of a dime, hit me on the side of my neck.
We also walk twice a day--a very short one this morning, because it's as hot and humid as a tropical rainforest in Toronto today.
As I walked along the sidewalk, trying to keep in the shade, a Beatles tune kept playing in my head--I guess because on Sunday, I saw Paul McCartney in concert at the ACC in Toronto.
As I walked along the sidewalk, trying to keep in the shade, a Beatles tune kept playing in my head--I guess because on Sunday, I saw Paul McCartney in concert at the ACC in Toronto.
It was a fun concert, everyone was singing along, and even just sitting in the audience was entertaining because somehow, we got tickets in the VIP section.
Norm, seated beside me, was two seats left of suave Michael Buble, and I was two behind Katie Holmes, holding little Suri Cruise on her lap. They all had backstage guest passes.
I wish I'd been able to Meet the Beatle, I thought, if I'd had a pass.
Anyway, as the panting dogs and I neared home (I was trying to keep the dogs' heads up so they wouldn't notice a little dead sparrow on the sidewalk) suddenly something hard, about the size of a dime, hit me on the side of my neck.
With one hand holding both leashes, I reached around under my collar, hoping something nasty wasn't crawling down into my bra. I couldn't find anything, and forgot about it as I reached home and got the dogs fresh water and a couple of little biscuits, and checked the mail.
A few hours later, I'm feeling a little squirmy as I sit at the computer.
A few hours later, I'm feeling a little squirmy as I sit at the computer.
My head itches, and I pull the elastic out of my ponytail. But the top of my head still tingles. With two fingers I pluck a beetle off the top of my head. I throw it down on top of the recipe I am copying. It tries to crawl away!
I grab it with a corner of the recipe, pressing a little too hard. Orangey-brown beetle sauce oozes out onto what is now a Tomato Basil Beetle Sauce recipe. Ugh. I crumple the dead bug up tight in the paper.
If you ever wish to meet a Beatle, spell it out.
Always be careful what you wish for.
Always be careful what you wish for.
