I remember my grandparents' farm. Making my way through a mob of chattering chickens to gather freshly-laid eggs. Picking raspberries. Gathering items of interest from the bush out back. Wheelbarrow rides around the farmhouse. (It never occurred to me that the wheelbarrow might have any other purpose.) Scooping up handfuls of perfectly smooth and spherical soy beans, and letting them pour back out through my fingers. Reading endless ancient copies of Readers Digest in the little space behind the kitchen woodstove.
And the flies.
I remember the flies.
I remember flies, because I killed a gazillion of them this morning. And last night. And yesterday morning.
My friends - I don't live on my grandparents' farm. Flies are acceptable on a farm, for some reason. But I'm an urban dweller.
Why the flies???!!
In a moment of desperation recently, Spike grabbed the handiest container near him and sprayed wildly. It was mildly helpful. For the record, Febreeze air freshener - specifically Lavendar Vanilla & Comfort - slows them down. If you spray them, they land and stagger around just long enough for you to squish them with whatever your squishing tool of choice is. (Mine is a paper towel. Spike's is a bare hand. Eewww.)
On the bright side, all the mosquitos appear to have perished in the recent heat wave. No West Nile virus for me. Just typhoid, cholera, tuberculosis, or any other of 100 pathogens that apparently the common house fly carries.
What a relief.
