HELP MEEEEEEE

There are times when holistics are just no match for modern infestation.  I suppose our ancestors lives so much more simply that pests had no real place to hide.  Welcome to my nightmare right now.
What nightmare?  Fleas.  Oh it is too embarrassing.  I've never had fleas ever, living in the country my whole life, you would think there would have been an instance, but never.  I moved into this house and noticed fleas.  We went straight to the vet and he set us up with Frontline for all the animals and some spray for the carpets.  everything seemed to get better for a couple of weeks, and then, I started seeing them again.  I called the vet, who said that was a second hatching and they will be taken care of if we keep applying the frontline.  So I did, and in my spazmatica, I added in some flea collars, powder, various shampoos, diatomaceous earth, tea tree oil, zombie spray, crazy bleach concoctions, salt, everything I could to stop the onslaught.  The Frontline never worked and the fleas were still there and seemed to be getting worse.  I tried bombs that drove us and all the animals out of the house for a day...the fleas were still there.  It has gotten to the point where they are landing on the humans when we watch TV, while we sleep, work.  I vacuum, clean, spray, scream...nothing is helping.  The final straw though was when my daughter and I walked down into the basement looking for some sheetrock screws.  There was a square of cardboard on the floor that my son had placed when he was practicing his martial arts this past winter.  My daughter decided to jump from the bottom step onto that bit of cardboard and started screaming.  I turned around and she looked just like someone had poured a can of pepper on her.  Her shirt, her hair, her legs were covered with fleas.  I grabbed her and drug her up the stairs and quickly threw her outside where I hosed her off and stripped her down.  I ran back into the house and closed the door to the basement and shoved paper towels under the door jam just in case they were climbing the stairs after us.  I haven't been this freaked out since living in Virginia and meeting my first cockroach.  This. Was.  HORRIBLE. 
I grew up with mice in the house, spiders...really, I'm not freaked out by bugs often, but this...this was the nightmare of nightmares.  The sheer volume of fleas in that basement has me convinced they are crawling on me constantly.  I called Orkin today.  Evidently, flea infestations are second only to bedbugs in trying to get rid of them when they have managed to accelerate and the treatment will cost quite a bit, but this has got to end.  They are coming on Thursday for the initial treatment and every month for 12 months.  They will put a barrier on the yard as well as every inch of the house.  We will have to leave for 4 hours and take all the pets, but they guarantee there will be no living creature in the house other than the ones I own and want in the house by the time they are done.  Until then, I ventured back down into that basement and laid down every poison I could.  A full 5 pound box of diatomaceous earth, a full can of garden guard, a full can of flea powder, a can of salt and a sprinkle of holy water.  It looks like a flour factory exploded down there.  Please get me through the next week...I'm going to hug the Orkin guy when he gets here.  That is, if there is any of us left...

If this day had arms...

I would hug it.  Seriously.  After the last string of super hot and super humid days this week, I am so grateful to not be sticky and gross today.  I can actually do some laundry. 

Yesterday I put up the few jars or elderflower cordial I managed to make this year.  Not very many at all, but enough to offer a taste at Christmas time should I have guests for dinner.  I just wasn't as into it this year.  I have so many other things going on, like gtting ready to have the furnace put in and the back porch roof.  My neighbor was over the other day and we were discussing the back porch.  He suggested taking down the rails and building a room/addition.  I love my balcony, but he has a point.  That would give me enough room to make my bedroom wonderfully large, but I could have a bathroom up there too.  Anything to not have to navigate those suicide stairs while half asleep would be lovely.  Now to think on it and crunch some numbers for next year...

My dogs have fleas.  I'm not sure where they all came from, but Bella had some when we got her.  I'm thinking she was the carrier.  Now I can't seem to get rid of them.  I have all the powders and poisons for whetever areas of the house, but they are persistant.  I'm grossed out by them, but not as grossed out as if they were roaches.  I know I'm gaining headway.  If I just keep pouring on the dope, they should evenetually go away.   Poor Souie is hating it all the most.  Having a flea bath once a week is enough to make any self respecting cat run away from home.   Poor Sou.

Curt had my brand new washing machine apart the other day.  Every time i would turn it on, it would throw a code and the screen would flash "ld."  It turns out, that means the drain isnt draining like it should and somethign was wrong.  I suppose I could  have called the rent to own guys, but I have not been the best about using the bonified "he' soap for the thing and I was curious to see if it made a difference.  It was Curt's chance to see inside the washer and see how it ticked.  it was all pretty basic, and the problem ended up being in the water pump that was being held up by some gravel and staples...staples?  I'm thinking the gravel was from washing a rug without shaking it out first and the staples may have been from Dean, who shoves his homework in his pockets, and then will just throw his clothes in without searching the pockets.  The paper washes away, but the staples loge in the pump.  Anyway, Curt got it all cleaned out and I announced to the family to makes sure pockets are cleaned out and everything is shaken out before throwing it in the washer.  I would much rather vacuum gravel off the floor than ruin my shiny new washing machine. I know it will be 30 years before I get another one.  If it can survive my kids, I might have a chance of keeping it in one piece until then :)

Yesterday, my mom managed to roll off of her bed and was stuck in between the bed and her wall. Dad was stranded in the living room in his chair without his wheelchair or his walker, his phone was in the other room. Mom had her phone and called me.


Me: "Hello?"

Mom: "Hi. Are you terribly busy?"

Me: "Well, I'm just canning a few jars of cordial, but I'm almost done. What's up?"

Mom: "Well, I fell in a hole that is smaller than my ass and I'm stuck.'

Me: "Are you hurt?"

Mom: "Oh no...Just stuck. Finish what you are doing, I'm just fine..."

So, I go over there and dad is completely freaked out thinking mom has a broken hip or something. Mom is yelling from the bedroom that she is fine, but dad is deaf as a board and can't hear anything. I go in the bedroom and only see mom's feet sticking out from the end of the bed. I had to move some stuff and get her turned around enough to get her on her feet so I could pull her out of her hole. I spent the rest of my afternoon calming dad down.

Dad: "Its just that she didn't come back for a long time. I wasn't sure if she was walking the streets lost in her own dementia..."  So funny.