Spring is here. Flowers are blooming, leaves are sprouting, and grass is growing. Oh, the freshness of it all. I love it — except for one thing – bugs.
Insects are everywhere. I know some of them are harmless. Others are supposed to be useful, bees, for example, pollinate flowers. But what was God thinking when he created some of these tiny tormentors?
It seems you can’t really get rid of the bad bugs without also getting rid of the good ones. And the bad bugs are trying to ruin my life. Why, why is it that the bugs will not leave me alone?
I had a tick on me the other day — a TICK! What other woman gets bitten by a stupid tick? I don’t know where it came from, but it bit me on the bottom of my big toe, leaving a lump the size of a pea and an itch like a bee sting. I rushed to the Internet to see what horrible diseases I could come down with.
And there are disgusting tent caterpillars in my crabapple tree. If I don’t get rid of them, they will damage the tree. If the limb they are on is small, I just cut it off and throw away the entire mess. If they are on a big limb, the nest has to be opened and they crawl left and right trying to escape. The entire business is just too gross to talk about.
So far, these are my only two major bug assaults this year. But the season is young. I still have mosquitoes to look forward to. Mosquitoes love me, but the feeling is not mutual! They flock to me. While other people get one bite, I get dozens of itching burning lumps of fire.
And there are chiggers; did I mention chiggers? They are even worse than mosquitoes. These are tiny bugs that you can’t even see, but they live in the grass and jump onto your legs and feet and bite you. What possible reason is there for such a onery bug to exist?
I ask you, what is the purpose of a wasp? Bees I can somewhat understand, but wasps? They will build a nest somewhere they don’t belong before the end of summer. I’ve learned to respect their turf since one flew into a rage and stung me with no provocation at all. These evil tempered bugs should be on Prozac.
I no longer have a garden. What’s the use when the bugs eat it up before you can? Each insect seems to specialize in one particular plant, cut worms on tomatoes, potato beetles, corn caterpillars and cabbage moths. Where do they come from and how do they find out about your tiny plot of earth?
Flies, filthy flies. My trash cans are spotless and the lids are tight. I rake up the spoiled fruit under the apple tree. Still they come; they zoom around waiting for the door to open so they can buzz inside and aggravate me until I can chase them down with a swatter.
Termites tried to eat my house one year. They swarmed the living room like ants with wings. I nearly had a heart attack until I could call the exterminator to eradicate them. That little adventure cost me a small fortune and continues to cost every year as they return and try to whittle my home into a toothpick.
There are so many others: bagworms on the evergreens, spiders in the azaleas, crickets around the foundation, moths swarming the porch light, and fleas attacking the pets. They say insecticides are dangerous. I say nay, nay. Kill ’em before they multiply.
Why can’t insects be nice like butterflies, fireflies, and lady bugs? I might actually be able to enjoy spring for a change if only the bugs would quit bugging me.
Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss