EEEK!
Something dropped from above, past my face, skimmed over the breastesses of my chest like a dude in a barrel over Niagara Falls, and out of sight.
EEEK!
I lurched forward like a kid granted one giant step in a game of Mother May I. Slowly I turned. Looked at the threshold.
EEEK!
A giant Daddy Longlegs was striding toward the safety of Hick's winter boots, sitting under the window by the floor vent. NO! Val is not one to suffer Harvestmen in her home! She finds those bulbous-bodied, hair-strand-legged critters to be particularly creepy.
EEEK!
I stomped that eight-legged spider impersonator before he could lift another leg. I despise a stridin' Harvestman. To think that it had dropped right past my FACE, and across my chest was horrific.
Our back deck must be particularly attractive to this clientele, what with being up off the ground twelve-and-a-half feet, away from most of the peckin' chickens, with a roof to keep off the rain. Also a fan of this habitat: wasps. Since my unfortunate hospitalization, I've been lax in my wasp-spraying duties. About once every two days, I get dive-bombed by one. Good thing they're not yellow-jackets. Or killer bees. I just forge ahead and they fly off after the collision. I have much more momentum, you know. It hurts them way more than it hurts me.
Until a stinger rears its ugly butt.
Here's the scene of the crime. Don't mind the alarm system warning, or the note for UPS to leave packages in the garage so the dogs don't eat them.
You'd think predators would be scared off by that fake ceramic gunbelt thingy Hick got at some auction or flea market. Or by that dinner bell coated with bird poo that also was a treasure of Hick's. The wasps are up above the door, in the corner by the soffit. The Harvestmen have the next section. That whitish area, I think. Unseen is the right-hand corner, where birds try to build a little nest. I think they perch on that dinner bell while they contemplate their next move.
Maybe I should simply spray and sweep that area tomorrow. I'm moving a little faster now in case the evictees object to my actions.
There's a new sheriff in town. I've got a can of Black Flag in both holsters.
Spray the wasp nest at night so you get them all. Sheriff Thevictorium.
ReplyDeleteMy dear science teacher friend, that arachnid is poisonous but not to humans. It can't get it's mouth open. I pick those harmless critters up. Try it sometime :)
ReplyDeleteNever heard of Daddy Longlegs being called Harvestmen. But a large arachnid by any name is still CREEPY. Sounds like you may need some real muscle to evict all those squatters in your low income housing.
ReplyDeleteI never saw the movie (in regards to the title).
ReplyDeleteThe last couple of days, I've seen some crazy-looking insects. In the bathtub I found a huge spider (I didn't check it out to see if it had a violin with it) and a weird grasshopper-looking thing in the basement.
Are you sending these our way? I mean, I love me some Herriot, I do, but I love creatures "great" more than creatures "small."
Joe is right about spraying them with a can of wasp bomb at night. I sprayed a nest of about ten thousand wasps with this stuff (at night when they were all inside their nest) and that was the end of the problem. Take care.
ReplyDeletejoeh,
ReplyDeleteI think you're onto something. I looked at that nest today, and there was only ONE wasp guarding the fortress. I guess the others were out working, or visiting their relatives at various locations around the porch.
*****
Linda,
Ack! Are you delirious? How can you grab one of those spindly legs that is likely to break off in your hand, leaving that critter to scurry about until you grab ANOTHER leg, and another...No thank you. No Harvestman wrangling for this ol' Val! Even science teachers have their phobias.
******
Leenie,
We don't say that name out loud, but that's what my BFF Google thinks their real name is. Not their scientific name, of course. Who would walk around screaming, "EEEK! An Opilione just dropped past my face!"
*****
Sioux,
If I wanted to send you insects, I would package them up, tie them with a pretty pink bow, take them to the dead-mouse-smelling post office, and have them delivered by a federal employee.
I have had no dealings with Herriot since I first discovered him in a Readers Digest Condensed Book as a teenager.
******
Stephen,
Since you are so experienced, perhaps you could come take care of my tens of wasps so I don't have to. I will not ask Hick to do it, because these venomous stinging critters simply LOVE him. Every year, he mows over a nest of yellow-jackets, and bears their bumps for days. A single wasp can sense him checking the pool filter, and dive-bomb him from 20,000 feet. Hick is like a human pincushion for their stingers.
Wasps ...... Take a 2 liter bottle (empty, of course) and cut the top off about 1/3 the way down, put the "funnel" into the bottom of the bottle and pour a little Mountain Dew" in. They are attracted to the sweet citrus concoction and after they get in, they can't seem to figure out how to escape. No spraying and swatting that could end with a sting. We have theses traps all over the park and they always fill up with hornets.
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteDang! I don't want to SEE them congregating! Then what do you do with them? I'm afraid my chickens would think it was a buffet. I'm all for this natural pest control stuff until I have to do it.
I've heard that instead of using rat poison, you can leave out bowls of beer, and the rats will drink it, and since they can't burp or fart, they will explode. But then somebody has to clean up those popped rats. Not that I'm saying you have rats, of course. I saw this on TV. It might be an urban legend for all I know. I can't bring myself to ask my BFF Google.