We finally closed the chapter on the master shower remodel last week. Initially, Bill complained that the shower was too big. In my mind, there’s no such thing as too big a shower or tub or TV. Anyway, he seems to be adjusting to it now. The front room windows are in town and are scheduled to be installed Wednesday. And that will be the last of the contracted work (we hope and pray) for a while. We discovered that the roof needs to be replaced in the next few months, but maybe the insurance will pay for part of it.
Bill has spent the last several days working on the exterior. We had some rotted trim, so he is replacing that, and doing touch ups all around. The glass block window that was put in the master bath wasn’t finished on the outside (Bill told them he would do it himself), and it’s about ready for paint. The new diabetes doc switched up his insulin, and he is back to having nightly and sometimes twice nightly low blood sugars. They have knocked down the dosage, and he has an appointment with her next week.
Our highs now are down into the low-mid 90’s, and the nights are cooling nicely into the mid-60’s. I’ve been able to have the windows open for the last several nights.
Our evening ritual is watching TV until about 7pm. Then, we walk across the street and visit with Harold and Joanne for a while on their back porch, followed by Mo’s evening walk. Mo loves laying on their covered porch while we talk. They also feed him treats whenever they see him, so there’s that draw as well. Since it’s getting dark earlier now, that evening walk is bringing out some nocturnal critters. Friday night, the large tarantula was crossing the street right in front of us (one block behind our house). When he got to the other side, he just stopped and waited for me to flip the flash on my phone and take a few shots. I didn’t have the courage to pick him up, even though I’ve held Rosie at the Denver Butterfly Pavilion. The very next night, we were walking on that same street, practically in the same spot and saw a huge wasp dragging a baby tarantula across the street. This wasp is known as a Tarantula Hawk and is easily three inches in diameter (including legs). She had stung and paralyzed the baby and was dragging it back to feed her larvae. I initially thought the baby was dead. I researched it when we got back home and read how it needed a live host. I then felt really bad that I didn’t try to rescue it. I posted the picture and my thoughts on my bug Facebook Group (“All Bugs Go To Kevin”). After a barrage of people chimed in about how humans shouldn’t be interfering with nature and the ecosystem, one guy commented that the sting from this wasp puts the tarantula into a permanent comatose state (he likened it to refrigeration). Once stung, it will not recover. So, while I feel bad for it, there wasn’t anything I could or should have done. I hate that part of Mother Nature. A couple of months ago, we heard a blood- curtling scream coming from high up in the neighbors’ tree. A raven was stealing a baby bird from a nest, and the mother bird was heartbroken and crying for help. I swear I could feel her pain. That stuff bothers me for days. It’s a Mom thing, I guess.