Out front, checking the planters and sprinkler distribution, what do my wandering eyes detect? A little bubble formation on the wood beam, which helps support the small portion of roofing over the front door and windows. A quick finger exam confirms that those wood chewing insects from hell have descended on the grounds with a ferocious appetite.
There goes another love song.
The exterminators will arrive on Thursday to give the great news on what all of this will cost. I'm sure the tent will be on the way, which means packing up pets and some valuables for a few nights away from the gas and insect carnage. I can hardly wait to hear what the repair bill will by to my little world of infrastructure needs. Who can I hit up to defray my misfortune? The sad fact of bug infestation happens to be one of those karmic delights where friends and loved ones look at you with a gee-how-bad-for-you, so-glad-it's-not-me bemusement, and offer no relief.
This is all so California these days. Less revenue, unexpected disasters, no money in the bank and no one who wants to help own a piece of dry rot.
Tomorrow is election day. When every measure loses look for the state go on sale. I'm not sure how much a state can fetch when every year is drought year, and beetles the size of Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger's ego finish chewing off the timber in what is left of our forests.
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