Wednesday, May 17, 2006
A culling in the Stevens household
It'd seem that one of the down sides to the stunningly warm weather (rarely below 25C during the day, in fact usually above 30C) is that there are lots of insects of various sizes and anger levels.
This is made worse at Chez Stevens due to it being an old building by American standards (1940s) with many holes for aforementioned creatures to pop in for a while.
It all came to a head on Sunday. I came back from a really fun weekend in Austin, only to discover that there were quite a few flies in the kitchen, sitting on the ceiling, eyeing me up suspiciously.
So, I eyed them up for a while, and we came to a mutual understanding that involved me swatting them with the copy of the Guardian that my parents brought over at Easter. This did the trick.
Well, for 24 hours at least. Then the buggers were back. Now, as you can appreciate, this is neither hygenic or attractive. "Welcome to my house, please step over the dead flies everyone, and do ignore the ones circling your head."
So, having discovered late last night that DIY stores here aren't 24 hours, I headed to Walmart and found the insecticides section. They sell things that'll kill whatever you want - it was fascinating! I bought sprays for flies and ants, fly paper, fly swats, and also some chicken and a 6-pack of beer.
Came back, and liberally gassed the lot. It was very dramatic. A spray in each hand, much like a Terminator would do. Which, of course, is what I was doing. Every the instructions said, I doubled. The good news is that the buggers all burnt/perished/sufficated/did whatever they did. The bad news is that I've now got to sweep them all up and throw them out.
I shall let you know if they return.
This is made worse at Chez Stevens due to it being an old building by American standards (1940s) with many holes for aforementioned creatures to pop in for a while.
It all came to a head on Sunday. I came back from a really fun weekend in Austin, only to discover that there were quite a few flies in the kitchen, sitting on the ceiling, eyeing me up suspiciously.
So, I eyed them up for a while, and we came to a mutual understanding that involved me swatting them with the copy of the Guardian that my parents brought over at Easter. This did the trick.
Well, for 24 hours at least. Then the buggers were back. Now, as you can appreciate, this is neither hygenic or attractive. "Welcome to my house, please step over the dead flies everyone, and do ignore the ones circling your head."
So, having discovered late last night that DIY stores here aren't 24 hours, I headed to Walmart and found the insecticides section. They sell things that'll kill whatever you want - it was fascinating! I bought sprays for flies and ants, fly paper, fly swats, and also some chicken and a 6-pack of beer.
Came back, and liberally gassed the lot. It was very dramatic. A spray in each hand, much like a Terminator would do. Which, of course, is what I was doing. Every the instructions said, I doubled. The good news is that the buggers all burnt/perished/sufficated/did whatever they did. The bad news is that I've now got to sweep them all up and throw them out.
I shall let you know if they return.
