It is that time of year again, when the beast in me rears its ugly head. This normally even tempered laid back woman shape shifts into someone no longer recognizable. Today it the change began and sent me running to the storage closet to dig out my weapon. The battle is on.
The first foray of the enemy came last night as I was soaking in the tub. It had been a beautiful afternoon and I left the deck door open for the dogs so they could wander in out at will. Why shouldn't they get to enjoy the sun as well? Back to the tub. The lavender bubbles were working their magic as I read my latest trashy novel. Buzz. My ears perked up. Buzz. Thud. My eyes narrowed. Buzz. Buzz. Thud. I could feel my blood pressure rise as I scoured the room. There. There in the corner by the mirror was the biggest dumbest house fly I have seen in months. They are back!
Last year the fly community moved in with my boxes. They insisted on taking up residence in my new house. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that I left the back door open for the dogs. In the fly community an open door evidently means "Come on in and bring your friends." They buzz, crash into solid walls and windows repeatedly. They ignore my death threats. I figure it is only polite to warn them before I squish, swat and pummel them. They only get one warning and then they are fair game.
I am a lovely sight as I race around the house armed with my trusty red plastic fly swatter. Splat, splat splat. A joyous sound to my ears. Unfortunately as soon as I kill one, ten more of its cousins appear. The fly information line is not working here in the South. They are dumber than dirt and blessedly slow.
Today I killed five. They dared land on the screen in the window next to my desk. I take perverse pleasure in the annihilation of the critters. The only problem is that squished flies leave fly guts around. So far I have not found a company that cleans up after a crime of a flyicide. Any enterprising soul out there ready to invest in a new start up company?
I fear the flies are back and my thirst for vengeance has been tapped. Game on. Wonder who will win this year. Last year it was the flies.
The first foray of the enemy came last night as I was soaking in the tub. It had been a beautiful afternoon and I left the deck door open for the dogs so they could wander in out at will. Why shouldn't they get to enjoy the sun as well? Back to the tub. The lavender bubbles were working their magic as I read my latest trashy novel. Buzz. My ears perked up. Buzz. Thud. My eyes narrowed. Buzz. Buzz. Thud. I could feel my blood pressure rise as I scoured the room. There. There in the corner by the mirror was the biggest dumbest house fly I have seen in months. They are back!
Last year the fly community moved in with my boxes. They insisted on taking up residence in my new house. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that I left the back door open for the dogs. In the fly community an open door evidently means "Come on in and bring your friends." They buzz, crash into solid walls and windows repeatedly. They ignore my death threats. I figure it is only polite to warn them before I squish, swat and pummel them. They only get one warning and then they are fair game.
I am a lovely sight as I race around the house armed with my trusty red plastic fly swatter. Splat, splat splat. A joyous sound to my ears. Unfortunately as soon as I kill one, ten more of its cousins appear. The fly information line is not working here in the South. They are dumber than dirt and blessedly slow.
Today I killed five. They dared land on the screen in the window next to my desk. I take perverse pleasure in the annihilation of the critters. The only problem is that squished flies leave fly guts around. So far I have not found a company that cleans up after a crime of a flyicide. Any enterprising soul out there ready to invest in a new start up company?
I fear the flies are back and my thirst for vengeance has been tapped. Game on. Wonder who will win this year. Last year it was the flies.
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