We are, I am told, going to have a big, I mean BEEEEEEG, year for bugs here in last year’s drought country. And by bugs, I mean insects of the pesky and biting and stinging and flitting and I-won’t-even-post-pictures-of-them (you may thank me now, John, Teri, et al.) varieties, the ones that descend on the garden and leave it as a small quivering heap of dusty tendrils that give a last shudder and fall to the ground, dead. The ones that swarm around my head and ankles in grim, itch-inducing clouds of biblical proportions and leave me wanting to explode into equally lifeless dust.
Hello, Hell . . .
First we had a dry, hot year that sent a whole lot of bug-dom into hibernatory hiding. (Along with a whole lot of humanity ’round here.) Then there was this thing that purported to be winter but, in its temperate reality, was a very mild-mannered and brief cooling-off period during which the parched local world relaxed and the bugs began to feel quite welcome to reappear mighty early: mosquitoes bit me when I should have been wearing long underwear–though thankfully, not in my long-underwear regions, which would have been just too cruel for words. The return of rain here, which now to our astonishment puts much of Texas back on the plus side of normal precipitation levels and well out of drought status, was a regular engraved invitation to come and goof off at the spa, as far as the local insect population was concerned. Suddenly, flies are humming around in a leisurely landing approach to put their nasty feet and probosces on every morsel of goodness that appears, whether it’s a deliciously pretty bit of food on the table where I do not desire their company or the addition of their delicious crunch and protein to the dish, or it’s insecti-goodness of the garbage and compost varieties. Grubs and mandible-gnashers rolled out their equivalent of the heavy equipment and got down to serious work devouring tender green things left and right. And my quick walk across a grassy area acted like a strafing run in a bomber, sending up masses of craneflies like so much blasted, spiky shrapnel.
I have a special hatred for craneflies, I’ll admit, and for bugs that eat my plants or nip at my personage. I may be truly enamored of all sorts of crawly things as intriguing subjects at least when I’m safely insulated from actual contact with them, say with them in a nice tidy case in an insectarium at the zoo, or pinned on walls as magnificently weird and wonderful specimens in their pretty shadowbox frames. But when it comes to having them looping through the air in apparently aimless cartwheels that I happen to know are really going to have them fly directly down my windpipe or into my defenseless eye-bulbs or up there to nest in my hair or to burrow into my carotid and have a suck-fest on my life’s-blood (have I read too many outlandish horror stories? You be the judge)–well, I’m just not that live-and-let-live and forgiving a character, am I.
So I am arming myself with all sorts of anti-insect remedies, or things that purport to be so, and while I’m attempting with a certain modicum of ecological sensitivity to limit them to entirely natural and inoffensive and not widely toxic treatments, I can’t make any promises when I happen to see the first wave of evil bugs zeroing in on me and mine. It’s a matter of the hunter and the hunted, kill or be bugged. My general pursuit of happiness may have to take a backseat to pursuit of feisty insect vermin. There may be a few small detonations of either disturbed craneflies rocketing out of the lawn as I stroll, or of me spraying them with some wicked-sounding oil-soap-hot-pepper-nuclear-weapon spray intended to mortify and murder them in turn. There will certainly be skirmishes of all sorts. We are at war, sirs and mesdames, and I am not going to sit back and be antennae-whipped into submission without a fierce fight. My fight instinct is slightly higher than the flight one at this moment, so be prepared for bloody messages from the front. Here’s hoping that the message of victory isn’t delivered from Bug-topia. That would just be too tragic. Run for your lives!
Yikes! Head for the hills!
Art-Colored Glasses 
THANK YOU!
I’ve actually considered what our bug population will be like because of the mild Winter. I don’t even want to imagine what it would be like in your neck of the woods. I’ve never heard of craneflies and, frankly, that’s fine. I could google ’em but, really, that’s OK. Your post did remind me to add bug spray to my grocery list. The Arachnid Wars of 2012 are about to begin and I’ve already seen evidence of scouting parties having passed through my kitchen. We shall not go down without a fight!
The ones that are the biggest pest right now are also the smallest: those little itty bitty flies that want to live in my kitchen herb pots. AAAARGH!! They have thus far resisted every lure and trap I’ve used traditionally, and I’m temporarily stymied. But not giving up, no never!
Had to take a tick off the dog yesterday, and the mosquitos have arrived way ahead of the swallows that help keep them under control…
Not a funny April Fool’s Joke, Mama Nature!
She can be a cruel mistress indeed. But I tend to forgive her quirks as soon as I see some tasty veg come to ripeness or the flowers pop open. Then Ma N can get away with pretty much any old mean prank.
I’ve been watching the ladybirds on my plot, there seem to be lots of them, I’m hoping it’s a good sign that the nasties are kept at bay, but I’m not convinced!
At the very least, the ladybirds are pretty and charming on their own. I know that in some regions they’re so numerous as to be considered a house pest, but I have never seen that aspect and love when they show up here!
I deal with bugs better when they are outside. I don’t do so well when they invade my home. The other day I slammed a many-legged critter with a kleenex box. It skittered out from underneath the chair my grandchild and I were innocently sitting in. Bam! goes grandma. Small child then asks grandma why she didn’t let it live and just take it outside.
Small child can be informed that when small children are skillful enough to trap and transport said skitterers they are very welcome to repatriate them to the great outdoors! When I can move agilely enough I’m generally fine with doing that, but some bugs evidently just don’t read that memo.
Oooh, I’ve got shivers down my back and I’m itchy!! I feel so bad for you!! How perfectly awful, I couldn’t stand it!! But it reminded me of the summer we had the electric “badminton” rackets and we used to swat and zap bugs.. mean, I guess, but it was them or us!! xo Smidge
Now I’m picturing GIGANTIC insects chasing me with their own zapper racquets!! Funny and horrifying at the same time! 😉
Eeeeeeekkkkkk!!!! Glad you didn’t get any bites in the “censored” regions! I have also thought about what this year will be like buggie wise and it gives me the shivers. Time to make a list of all of the tools of war against these critters. Now why did I just get a vision of the movie ‘Starship Troopers’? Must reel in imagination and go check supplies.
See you at the bug spray aisle! You might consider not re-watching ‘Starship Troopers’ again before, say, November.
Glad I bought my bug repellent early just in case the supply runs short.
It will if you’re in *my* neighborhood, at least! 😉
Give ’em ‘ell, Katherine, shock and awe them, while at the same time being ecologically sensitive, of course! My word, you can paint a picture! (without ever lifting a brush!) xoxo
How well I know that the west coast is no stranger to overzealous bugs too! (And don’t get me *started* on slugs!!!)
xoxo!
Agree with the bugdom repulsion but one query stands out: please advise what purpose the mesquito serves in this life or any other???
If you ever find out, I’d appreciate knowing too! Mosquitoes: YIKES!
Make that “mosquito”. An after-the-fact-check revealed the “mesquito” is some type of military rocket weapon. Even the mosquito can’t do that much damage or can it? Depends on one’s interpretation of “damage”, do you suppose?
I did not know of this ‘mesquito’, but clearly it is aptly similar, because when I’ve been dive-bombed by a few mosquitoes I feel pretty much as though I’ve been blasted with a rocket-launcher myself.
Have been dealing with fleas on my kitties…which I thought the winter would help with…but like you we never really had enough cold weather…so the saga continues…
I *hope* the insects don’t inherit the earth, but if they’re going to, I’d rather they wait until I’m long gone! And animals have so little defense against them!