Last week I wrote about my spur of the moment jump in the pool fully clothed.

After my body was soothed and my spirit lifted in the cool cleansing water I decided to throw caution completely to the wind. When I got inside the house and I dropped the thermostat down to 77 degrees. Now that is living dangerously.

How will I ever adjust to my new freedom from constraint? Now there is the temptation to throw away the feather duster, store away the vacuum and really kick back. I’ll prop my feet up on the ottoman still in my pajamas and eat bonbons while watching Bette Davis movies on TCM.

What would be Dear Don’s reaction upon coming home from a hard hot day at work and find me surrounded by baskets of unfolded laundry and empty candy boxes, no dinner in sight?

I don’t know what the reaction would be. I have a slight idea but no frame of reference for I have always done what I was supposed to do and what was expected of me. Well, as much as I possibly can while trying not to fit in any preconceived box.

But so much for being reckless.

It is difficult to keep your brain wrapped around flights of fancy when heart-stopping, hair-frizzing, skin-burning summers in the Deep South encompass you.

The hot weather though is the least of my worries and woes for now.

We had a storm here last Friday and boy was it a doozie. Lightning struck our telephone, which, considering the things it could have struck, we were lucky. Then Saturday the septic tank decided to abruptly stop doing what it is that it does. That is not so lucky. I could see dollar signs flashing before me.

Monday morning I arose early to get all my chores done so I could be finished when the plumber arrived.  As I sat down to take a break I saw something moving on my shoulder. It was a tick. I don’t like ticks and I don’t want ticks on me. I shuddered as I promptly put him in a ziplock bag. I was afraid to try flushing him down the toilet for obvious reasons.

Later on I took out the kitchen trash and there to my dismay were my two lovely bluebirds dead at the foot of their house. Only the bright blue feathers scattered about gave any indication as to what I was looking at. They had just built a new nest and laid their second set of eggs this summer. I had seen a stray cat around lately and I guess he was the culprit. It was an upsetting sight.

After the plumbers left and we were back in business I mopped floors and when I went to put my mop out on the porch to dry I spotted a snake coiled up in the iris bed,

I didn’t attempt to put him in a ziplock bag nor did I try to flush him. I decided this was a job better left for Dear Don.

But by the time Don got home Mr. Snake was long gone. I dread my next encounter with him and regret that I had not tried to extinguish him myself.

It has been an interesting week here at Plum Point. Critters and plumbing aside, life is never dull at the lake.

But for now I will have to check my bold and rash new ways until it cools a bit. Being brave and stepping outside my comfort zone is better left to cooler weather.

You get the picture.

(Contact award-winning columnist Sherry Hopkins at swhcsc@wildblue.net.)