The gnats have been upgraded to fruit flies. I wish they were vegetable flies, since I eat a lot more fruit than vegetables.
My garbage can (recently renamed Cujo) remains in exile on my patio. My cutting board, aka Fruit Fly Riviera, is on the patio as well. My fruit is in the currently uninfested refrigerator.
I gave in to the dark side and bought insecticide, some organic stuff that guarantees if it poisons me to death, I'll die green. The best I can say for it (and this is no small thing) is that it's not a fruit fly aphrodisiac. Although I do worry about its logo: Be Fruit Fly And Multiply. But since I can't be trusted with anything that sprays, my kitchen walls are now permanently discolored.
I'm never getting my security deposit back so what do I care.
Scooter is out of sorts because I held off giving him his canned cat food yesterday. Today I fed him but he's still out of sorts because the fruit flies like canned cat food almost as much as he does.
My mother is sort of in sorts. She seems to be accepting the nursing home fairly well. Yesterday (and I was there to witness it), a physical therapist came in just as she was being served lunch, to tell her he'd be in after she'd eaten to take her to exercise. My mother informed him it wasn't good to exercise after eating. I gather she convinced him and she was spared the ordeal of getting up out of her chair and walking.
As you can tell from my complete (and unusual) inability to answer any of your comments, I remain frazzled and unproductive. In theory I'm going to start writing again today. I also have some fantasies of throwing out the garbage bag and giving Cujo a massive scrubbing. I think I'll try to smuggle my cutting board into the dishwasher. Maybe the fruit flies will follow it there and get scrubbed out of existence.
The best thing about this July is tomorrow it will be August!