FLEAS AND OTHER CRITTERS.
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">Here's a repost of mine from last year: </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I hope when you go this Vacuum Cleaner Purgatory you will be very cautious about critters and creepy-crawlers, including black widow spiders - they seek out dark, quiet, secluded places. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">Wear long, heavy pants tucked INTO long, heavy socks. Leather ankle-high work shoes (not tennis shoes or flip-flops!) Long-sleeve shirts and heavy gloves. Don't reach into boxes or under piles of vacuum cleaners. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I've got two good stories here. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">One time I found an old ramshackle vac shop down near my church. The shop is long gone; the property is now a tiny industrial park. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">Anyway, I went into the filthy shop one day just to see what the guy had. The place smelled of stale cigarettes, cat pee and cheap aftershave that didn't quite cover up the old guy's rancid B.O. He said he had a bunch of "old junk" out back behind the shop and I was free to have a look. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I went back there and started looking around - pulling out some old machines and stuff that were there. Unfortunately it was all ruined since it had been exposed to the elements for years. As I was standing there with disappointment over the condition of the stuff, I started feeling an itchy, tingly, crawly feeling on my legs. I looked down and my light tan khaki pants were COVERED with fleas. Hundreds of them hopping around on my legs and feet, crawling up inside my pant-legs and biting my ankles and calves. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I screamed and literally tore my pants off right there in the guy's back yard! I went running to my car in my underwear (Thank God I don't "go commando!") and got some bottled water and poured it all over my feet and legs. I tore off my shoes and socks and just threw the socks away. Luckily I happened to have a pair of walking shorts in my car so I put them on. I went back to the guy's shop and gave him hell about that junk pile in the back. He said, "Oh yeah, there are stray cats around here and I guess they attracted fleas." </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I washed off my shoes and pants with the hose outside his shop and drove home barefoot. I stopped by my apartment and called out to Arlee at his open window to bring me out some shoes. ("Don't ask so many questions, just bring me some shoes. I'll explain later.") </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I drove to the store and got a flea bomb. I closed my car windows and doors and let off one of the bombs inside, and kept it shut all day and night. The next day I opened all the doors and windows. I brought out an Electrolux, and with the hose attached to the blower, air-washed the interior of my car very thoroughly. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">That seemed to do the trick; I didn't see any fleas after that. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">Oh My Gawd that was such a horror! I'm getting itchy just thinking about it! </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">------- </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">Then here's the other story. </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I went out to my old garage (R.I.P.) at my former apartment one day to get something. I had a pile of boxes stacked up inside the back area of the garage. The top box was higher than eye level. Whatever I wanted (don't remember now), was in one of the boxes under the top, open box. I reached up and pulled the top box down. When I got it down to eye level, I let out a loud shriek, jumped back and dropped the box! </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">Because staring at me, hissing with teeth bared about three inches from my face, was a huge 'possum! The 'possum is among the ugliest animals in the western world, and this one was mighty annoyed at its cozy little nest being disturbed. It scared the living daylights out of me -- before I got my wits about me I thought it was a gigantic rat! </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I ran out of that garage, my heart pounding and the wind knocked out of me. It took a few minutes of re-gathering my bravery before I went back in there because I knew that beast was still in there somewhere. But I figured it had gotten as scared as I had, especially when I let out that ear-piercing scream! </span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms,geneva; font-size: medium;">I also used to see a lot of black widow spiders out there. I almost learned the hard way to be careful about reaching my hands down into dark spaces -- when I saw one crawling up my arm one day.
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