This gardening season is going to go down in history as much more than just record breaking temperatures, I’m convinced it’s going to be declared the year of the bug. I can feel it in my legs! All eight of my hairy, multi legged, creepy crawling, don’t say that you’re making me shiver ugh…legs.
If it buzzes, flies, skitters, scampers, crawls, or slides it belongs outside. Tell that to the millipede the size of my little finger that just got sucked up
accidentally, by the vacuum.
Suck it up
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there, you creepy crawly, creature slinking down my hall” disingenuous smirk on my face as I weld the vacuum hose and suck the multi legged, disgusting thing up like a ninja.
“Look bug, you belong outside, I run an organic, pesticide free, bird friendly, paradise of a natural garden, there’s a whole range of beautiful perennials, and tender veggies for you to munch on, but if you insist on coming inside my house, it’s going to be no holds barred.” I know bugs are beneficial, and good to have around but in my house they are up to no good.
Screech and squish, that’s my motto.
It’s not like you weren’t warned. There are no trespassing signs everywhere around here.
Didn’t the dripping giant eyes of water soaked pennies suspended in a clear plastic, and stuffed brown paper bags hanging all over catch one of your many bug eyes. Or were your thousands of legs too busy carrying you over the threshold of the front door, past the cotton batting stuffed into the tiny cracks that was supposedly to deter you ? Why didn’t the gallon of all natural diatomaceous earth, sprinkled around the perimeter of the house stick to your scales and do you in first?
It’s not as if you don’t get enough chances to bite, chew, and chomp on me each time I go outside, despite being drenched in natural bug spray that makes me itchier then your bites do. Your multitude of friends have made it nearly impossible to go outside no matter what time of day it is.
Maybe you confused this with mission possible…a door ajar, a moment of open space, a frantic dash inside where life just has to be better than the banquet of tasty green leaves, and delicate petals that I have slaved over all season to feed you with.
Well you thought wrong.
So tell that to your comrades in arms, [and legs] hanging out where the end of your journey deposits you, after a twisting turning rollercoaster ride in the vacuum cleaner bag baby!
Because it’s a bugs life, and you belong outside.
No if’s, and’s, or bugs.
Jen @ The Light Laughed
I’ve been sharing links to other bloggers as a way to say thanks for being part of my community, and to introduce you to those you haven’t met yet.
Today I’m sharing links to Carolynn, of a Glowing Ember, chicken whisperer, talented watercolor illustrator, now living in a 100 year old farmhouse.
And Kim of Exquisitely Unremarkable, who’s latest decorating trick temporarily confused her family, but shifted her perspective immensely.
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