That thing I said yesterday about a successful stinkbug de-bugging? Yeah, scratch that.
When I came home yesterday, the stinkbugs were back, crawling all over the screens inside the porch.
Yesterday was a day full of mishaps and weirdness.
I'd planned my afternoon tasks right down to the minute: (1) pick up the grocery order for the cookout, (2) pick up the meat for the cookout, (3) mow the lawn, and (4) take The Husband to dinner for his birthday.
The first indication of trouble came when the grocery store e-mailed a list of substitutions. One of the substitutions was a bag of frozen mixed berries instead of the strawberries I'd ordered. The strawberries were for home-made ice cream at the cookout; mixed berries would not do. This added another stop (or two) to look for strawberries.
Next, I went to pick up the meat. I ordered this meat and 18 eggs from a local farm that raises cattle and chickens. The farm is located in an area that surrounds a very big state park. The roads around this park are a labyrinth; roads will suddenly end, and then pick up elsewhere. I have never driven through this area without getting lost. But yesterday I had my GPS for directions and drove straight to the farm, no problem. On the way, I recognized a road with which I am familiar (or so I thought) and decided to take it on the way home without using the GPS. Big mistake. I ended up back at the farm. Short on time (and gas), I did not need this complication.
About those eggs? I'd ordered eggs from the grocery store but had cancelled them when I found out I could buy them from the farm. When I picked up the grocery order, the nice clerk handed me a bag and asked, "Do you want these eggs up front?" Since I was in a rush, I did not want to go through the process of trying to return them, so I took them. When I got to the farm, I intended to cut my egg order back to 12, but the farmer's wife brought me 2 dozen eggs and insisted that I take the extra for free because their chickens were egging them to death. This brought the egg total in my car to 42, plus the 8 or 10 in the refrigerator at home.
I gave the store-bought eggs to Nanny, once I found my way out of the forest.
The extra stops and extra mileage had cut into the allotted mowing time. By this time, I was mildly irked about all the complications in my plans. Would I have time to shower and change clothes before my dinner date? I decided to put off the mowing for a day since The Boss had given me a day off to prepare for the cookout. I came home, intending to take a breather on the porch until it was time to get ready for dinner. That's when I discovered that stinkbugs had invaded the porch again. A big, fat bumblebee had joined the party and was buzzing all over the place, desperate to get out. I tried to shoo him out the door, but he would not go. Finally, I trapped his ass in a mason jar and turned him loose in the yard.
Dinner was good. The drive home was nice, with the windows down and a ukulele CD (which The Husband had bought at last week's ukulele fest) in the dashboard player.
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