Friday, October 16, 2009

Shoo Fly, Don't Bother Me

I love Fall and nearly everything about Fall. I love the temperatures, I love the colors, I love saying goodbye to my garden for a season, I love...

Everything except the FLIES. Yes, Flies. Every Fall, they enter my house in large numbers.
But, as I've asked around, not everyone seems to have this Fall-problem!?! Our current house and our previous house were near horse fields. And both have had the same Fall-problem.
Horse fields are my only logical reason, because certainly my 'fly-snob-friend', Melanie, never has flies at her 'city' house. When Melanie enters my house in the fall, one of the first things she does is grab the fly swatter and counts aloud as she starts swatting away. (Yesterday she lost count after 12...)

Tuesday, I couldn't take a doze on my couch because there were SIX flies flying ON and around me. (Well, also the phone kept ringing and my two year old was whining...)

Flies are consuming way too much of my time. Not only am I having to walk around constantly swatting them. But even then, how sanitary is that having flattened flies and fly guts on your counter/cabinets? So then I have to follow the death path with Clorox wipes.

Flies are a concern for my health as well. Surely the rise in blood pressure they cause is not good. They are making me crazy. They are making me swear. They are making me yell. They are making me MAD. They are all around me. Sometimes, they are even trying to you know what, right there in my kitchen!!

Luke and I googled a solution the other day and had some type of apple juice/vinegar/sugar solution in an inside-out bottle and it didn't work. Luke wants me to "tell the man that stuff didn't work." Note to Google: It didn't work.

Megan said she learned in third (or second?) grade that flies have 20,000 eyes and that is why they are so hard to swat. (I'm not sure if that is the actual number she said. I couldn't hear her very well over my altercation with the flies.)

I will even admit there were 2, two, TWO dead flies in my boiling pan of potatoes the other night. They must have boiled to death, there in my potato pan. Serves them right.

What do you think I did? What would you have done if you found two dead flies in your pan of potatoes? Fished them out and no one but me ever has to know? Or, ordered take-out?


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