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home : lifestyle : encore   December 17, 2014

11/12/2012 10:21:00 AM
Just another day


Nancy Dinelli-Prill




Thank goodness we don’t live on the east coast because it means that today is just another day and not a mess like those poor people still are in out east.
I wonder if there are boxelder bugs there and if the storm washed them away.
I need to tell you that the south side of our house is the cleanest on the planet. Yes, I did end up using soap and water to wash away and kill the hundreds, maybe thousands of boxelder bugs that appeared on the south side of our house daily.
I wouldn’t have paid any attention to the creepy things if our everyday, in and out, entrance wasn’t on that side of the house. However, the chore of getting in and out of the house without getting the horrid, smelly, ugly things in your hair and eyes and down the inside of your clothes was near impossible.
Therefore, at the first light of day I was out with my hose and soap. Yes, I ended up buying a gallon jug of soap at Farm and Fleet. I got out the little jug sprayer that fits on the end of a hose, which I usually put liquid in to fertilize plants.
Only this time it was full to the brim with pink soap. I attached it to the end of the garden hose and twice a day I hosed down the whole south side of the house, sometimes getting the gutters and parts of the roof as well.
Now I have to tell you, there are five windows that go from the roof to the ground. There also is the door with the full window in it, plus there are two regular-size windows on that side of the house and, of course, an eight-foot patio door.
“So what!” you say. “So what, my extracted tooth,” I say.
You see, after I have soaped down the whole south side of the house, I then have to wash it down with clear water. Then, I have to polish all of those windows so I’m not looking at soap-streaked windows, which would bug me more than the bugs.
The next step is to sweep those bugs into a pile and stomp on them to make sure they are dead.
As I turn my back on that mess, then go into the house, change cold wet clothes, get out the vacuum and clean up all the horrid creatures that have somehow invaded the inside of the house, it is finally time to “set” a spell with a big hot jug of chamomile tea.
I sit in complete silence and think about what it must be like for the old folks who live in one of those complexes where “somebody” — “anybody” does all the work for the person who occupies the house. I don’t even put on my opera music, I just sit in “my” chair looking out my newly, once again clean windows, while holding on, and warming my wet, cold hands on my jug of chamomile tea.
The clock’s hands are heading toward noon and that means it is time to feed not only “The Farmer” but also “Mandy Dog.”
I will confess that when that process is done, I crawl into my bed for a hour nap or just to catch my breath from the morning’s assault on the boxelder bugs.
But guess what, by 2 in the afternoon the south side of the house has another “million” live boxelder bugs covering it, and yes, once again I start the process that was carried out in the morning, all over again. There are dead bodies all over the place both from the morning and afternoon.
Then “The Farmer” gets into the act either by sweeping the dead bodies onto his big scoop shovel or by just getting out the blower to blow them away. Finally, by time we sit down to eat our evening meal, we are just about free of boxelder bugs.
Until the next morning when the process of the day starts all over again, as it will the rest of the week. Sad as it may seem, when we go to spend the weekend in Platteville to get away from these horrid critters, we not only discover they also are part of the Wisconsin landscape.
Even more disturbing, the mice have gotten into the silverware drawer of our brand new cupboards. Let me tell you, my hands pulsated all night from so much cold water and now I’m just a “dizzy dame” with what appears to be a sinus infection.
How much longer are these horrid bugs going to hang out and where are the birds that we feed and why aren’t they helping us by eating them?
Having said all that, once again I’ll say, I’m sure glad we don’t live on the east coast. Now that I mention it, I wonder what is happening to all the farm animals out there. I’ll have to find out. Ciao!










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