Sometimes They Come Back.

I have allergies, I have termites, I have an overgrown garden, I have a blog, I have a computer, I have a comic strip...so much to prattle on about, but first I will fixate on the thing keeping me from all the rest: my allergy does not stop with medication.

Okay, maybe fixate is the wrong word, because with allergy medication, fixating is not possible. It is possible to appear to be fixated on something, but I can assure you, that stare? Nothing coming in these eyes.

My house still tastes good to the earth-dwelling bastards who systematically took two of our trees and a shed. I'm glad something shares my love for the house, but like all bad relationships, I don't know how to get the termites to leave. The exterminators came today for the third year, and treated the soil. That's all you can do, I hear. Burning them tends to cause more damage than it prevents, and eBay doesn't sell nukes.

I've run out of witty things to write today, so I really have no way of pulling this around to leave you laughing, but once we hit the really hot weather and everyone's yards (mine include) dry to crisp harmlessness, I might have a few things to say that don't trail off into something I can't even recall at the moment.

Sometimes They Come Back.