SPEAKING OF BUGS (June 1999)
You should probably know what kind of person I really am. Iím a BS-er. That stands for Bug Squisher. My mother may gently remove a dangling spider from its roost and carry it lovingly outside to a new and better home, but I swat Ďem down with a broom, stomp on them, and use four paper towels to pick up the evidence. And, I sound very much like Miss Piggy when I do it. From there the wad is given a burial at sea. I even flush twice.
Yes, I loved Charlotteís Web as a kid, but unless Some Pig is clearly written in the web, that spiderís out-a-here! They just plain give me the creeps.
We seem to have attracted a new, rare breed of very intelligent jumping spiders. They seem to know that my foot in the air above them means the end is near and they jump out of the way. I thought this was quite amusing, in a sort of diabolical way, until the little varmint jumped at the foot that was still on the ground. Then I jumped. Then he jumped some more. Before I eventually got him we were doing a very lively version of the stomp polka.
Steve isnít afraid of spiders and it is his duty to kill them for me. I had this written into our marriage vows. I only do it myself when heís not home. Steve isnít a Bug Squisher, heís a Bug Sprayer. He laughs when I have to use 4 paper towels to scoop them up. (I donít want to feel them either, especially the crunchy ones.) He uses bug spray. To date we donít know if the bug spray kills them, or they just drown in it. He squirts them at point blank range, following them down the wall with the spray as their limp wet bodies plummet to the floor, and only releases the nozzle after the offending insect has gone under for the third time. I donít ask him to kill anything until it is at least 6 feet from any one of my quilts. Iím afraid saturating them with whatever poisons are in the can may add a secondary pattern, or possibly expose the wall behind them.
BUGS (July 1999)
Well evidently Iím not alone. I heard from hundreds of you who donít like the little beasties either. And not ONE mocked my MPT&F Extermination Method (Multiple Paper Towel & Flush). I was informed that the jumping spiders I wrote about are really called camel crickets a mutation of the kangaroo/tarantula cross experiment. (I hope she was pulling my leg.) I also heard about various other vermin and pests that could inhabit my home, and thank you very much Iíll keep the ones I have.
Another reader suggested that I vacuum the bugs off the wall instead of drowning them with bug spray. So I tried it. Works great for the ones near the bottom of the wall, but if theyíre above my head I just canít do it. My upright is just too heavy to lift that high.
I also heard from a reader about a vacuum specifically made for bugs. Now thatís a great idea. I have contacted the company and will report back in the next newsletter.
MORE BUGS (August 1999)
Thanks again to the readers of this newsletter who alerted me to a new product which I donít think I can live without. Yes, I am now the proud owner of a BUG CATCHER. Made by a clever company in Farmington, Washington called INSECT ASIDE (get it?), this hand held bug sucker is way too much fun. Itís a mini vacuum cleaner with a telescoping nozzle and a clear plastic triangle on the end. The triangle funnels into a hole. The hole leads into the telescoping nozzle. The bugs go down the hole, through the nozzle, and into a disposable cartridge where they meet their doom. You never see them again. Poof! And they donít rattle around inside either. (I couldnít take that.)
The day it came I charged it up but couldnít find a single bug. Figures. Not even an old dead bug carcass. Evidently, just the sight of the thing scares bugs out of your house. I revved it up and brandished it threateningly several times at the back door, and we were bug free for another 3 days. Imagine my dismay.
Then our luck changed. The next morning I sucked up two earwigs, a spider and a fly, laughing maniacally each time. OK, so the spider wasnít one of those jumping kind and may have been on itís way to a coma just by walking on the wall after so many years of Steve saturating them with bug spray. He didnít even put up a fight. Earwigs are rather stupid and slow moving, so that was hardly a challenge. But the fly was a sight to behold.
It was not one of those porker varieties, who flap their wings 4 times and have to sit and rest for half an hour. No, this was a sleek, fast, mean-spirited fly, the kind that wants to make a landing pad on your head just to taunt you. The kind you chase from room to room with a fly swatter, connecting with nothing but air. He was the kind of fly who could read your mind. The kind that lands on your favorite nick knack because he knows you wonít swing. The kind that pretends he wants to get out the window just so youíll try to smack him, then takes off at the last nano second in some impossible direction at light speed leaving you with your arm halfway through the screen.
He was, however, no match for me! Following package directions, I simply turned on the Bug Catcher a few feet away, whistled a happy tune, looked discreetly in the other direction, lined him up on the cross hairs and unleashed the lethal death rays. Not really. I just turned the thing on, came at him kind of slow and he was sucked into oblivion.
I canít tell you what a feeling of power this gives me. I am fearless. I am thinking of making a quilted holster for it. (c) 1999 by Ami Simms.
Want a Bug Catcher of your own? Email Ben at firstname.lastname@example.org or call 1-800-899-0009 for more information.