Bug Week

It's Bug Week here at Nanny Goats in Panties. And we are celebrating it with a pictorial look at what you can find in your own home. Earlier I told you a little story about crickets but, due to an adaptor issue, was unable to show you a picture of the little creature until now:




The very next day, I had the fortune to find another one on the same set of stairs.

Feeling a little like Noah, I encountered two more bugs in my living room:



The problem here is that they are at the top of my 2-story wall. I discovered them on Wednesday. But as it turns out, I happened to capture them on film while shooting the fierce winds on the previous Saturday, so they have now been there, not moving, for at least a week! Googling many images on the web and then cofirming with my NorCal bug ID Support Group, they seem to be wasps.

Oh Goody.

New Book Review: Don't Make A Scene

In my never-ending story of the Tale of Two Cities, I've been dragging the 4th book in my pile of to-be-reviewed books back and forth with me thinking I left my book notes in the other city and ultimately gave up, weeks later, having forgotten what the damn thing was about, kind of re-reading the frickin' thing and finally writing a damn review.

Don't Make a Scene by Valerie Block has been posted on Curled Up With a Good Book.

Jiminy's Dead, RIP

I have a cricket. His name is Charles. Actually I'd never named him before today, but for the purposes of this post, I thought I'd engage the reader more on this mundane story by giving him a name.

Charles and I have been living together for at least 5 years, although we have separate beds. Mine is on the first floor and Charles sleeps in his bed somewhere in the ventilation system on the third floor. I've been listening to his incessant chirping since the day he moved in.

Last night I thought I'd killed him, when I Black Flagged the shit out of a jumpy little critter banging himself against the stairs and the carpet. I thought it might have been a cockroach until he started jumping around like a cricket.

I took a picture of him clinging to the side of stair #5, gasping for air, but only sucking in miniature nerve gas, on the verge of death, in the hopes of sending it to MMP in the NorCal office for ID confirmation. But I forgot my little adapter thingy that takes those little data cards and plugs into a USB port, whatever they're called - see? -I don't know the name of anything. Anyway, I found a reasonable facsimile. This is what he looked like prior to kicking the cricket bucket:

Except his antennae went up and back away from his head, rather than jutting forward.

(Ewww, now I'm all creeped out after Googling cricket pics.)

Alas, poor Charles, I knew him well. And now he's been scooped off the poison-soaked carpet. That's right, I chucked Chuck like yesterday's trash.

The question is, who's the new guy who took over his post and began chirping today in the 3rd floor ventilation system? And what am I going to name him? And what the hell is the life span of a frickin' cricket?

I Hate Commercials

But I love this one. Why can't they all be this engaging?





I feel like eating Peeps now, for some reason.

10 More Shopping Days...

until the end of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Then all the pink will wither and die away. Until next October.

Funky Parrot

Some things are just plain fun to watch.

You Can Take the Girl Out of the Hood, But...

In my infinite quest to peel off the ick that is South Sac (my apologies to those of you who may have a lingering fondness for it), I find myself in that Godfather scene where the guy goes, "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in": A relatively oft-used quote for a third-rate third part.

Today's nostalgia is brought to you by Cosumnes River College. The CRC Atheltic Coordinator called me to invite me to a Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony (not me, you dope - my volleyball coach), and when recently asked what his best team was, our coach said "1985", which included me and 6 other girls. It was a cool team, I have to say. In a world, where 12 is the usual number, we mere 7 managed to take the league by storm, winning the conference and were therefore observed by actual "scouts". Two of us were recruited to go on to Humboldt State to play for another 2 years.

But anyway, I haven't seen these girls in 15-20 years, and scouring the internet yielded little, but just enough to get the ball rolling to where we might get almost everyone, except for the one in Hawaii. The funny thing is, everyone else is still here in the Sacto area, some of them in Elk Grove, not far from CRC. In a couple of weeks we will all be reunited with high-pitched Oh-My-Gods and Hi-How-Are-Yous. I don't know about you, but I can't wait!

Bodies or No Bodies

Rumor has it that Bodies...The Exhibition is coming to the fair town of SacraTomato. But when I went to the official website, I didn't see any evidence of it. So for now...it's just a rumor.

It is further rumored that said exhibit will be housed in the old CompUSA building on Alta Arden Way. So if you head over there only to find an empty store still covered in EVERYTHING MUST GO memorabilia, you can feed yourself on French Onion soup across the street at Mimi's Cafe.

I saw this thing in New York a couple of years ago and wonder if Sacramentans will be willing to pay the hefty $25.00 admission price. But then, if hefty Sacramentans are willing to go down to Disneyland and pay the $75.00 admission price after shelling out $670.00 in gas to drive down (because they can't "afford" to fly), I suppose it'll be the cultural aspect of it that will keep many away. Then there is the controversy surrounding this exhibit that many will use as an ostensible excuse not to attend because in reality, they are grossed out by the thought of skinned humans beings on display. Which means lots of people will come for the Ewwww factor alone.

So why the hell do I live here, you ask?

Indeed.