|And other insects.
||[Sep. 7th, 2010|03:08 pm]
I smashed a wasp against the library window yesterday. That did not thrill me. Then this morning there was a dragonfly in my kitchen. A dragonfly. Not acceptable. I do not smash dragonflies. They are our friends. They eat mosquitoes and, unlike spiders, do not bite us. So I have now joined the ranks of people who trap insects inside glasses and plates and carry them outside. I've never done that before, but: dragonfly. I mean.
Michele Bachman's campaign called to ask us to donate. In my best Polite Angry Minnesotan voice, I told the person that we were not in her district but would be donating heavily to her opposition if we were. Honestly. Michele Bachman. Of whom the rest of the far right wing wears T-shirts with arrows reading, "I'm not with Stupid -->." And it's only September. For awhile I was thinking that having a fixed election cycle was better because we would have guaranteed non-election seasons, which other systems might not allow, but no, no, I no longer believe this, they are invading everything, just everything, and I want the ability to have votes of no confidence, because I would have them all the time. Except in our library board. Oh, library board. In you, at least, I have confidence.
My mother's cat kills wasps for her -- very carefully, bopping them hard and then leaping backwards and seeing if another thwap is necessary or not. None of our cats is interested in anything of the kind, though.
I bet the dragonfly wasn't any happier than you were and was glad to be rescued.
I wonder what kind it was.
The quite cooperative kind. It flew right to the bottom of the glass and let me put the plate at the top with no problems.
The Quite Cooperative Dragonfly, a children's book coming this Christmas from Greenwillow or Harper Collins Children's or somewhere like that.
Now I know several kinds it's probably not, anyway.
It was large and sort of '70s colored. I thought of you and how it would be convenient to have you there to identify it, only not, because this was about 6:30 in the morning, so you would have been quite sleepy and not at all pleased to be standing in my kitchen blinking at a dragonfly, and even if you were for some bizarre and inexplicable reason my houseguest I would neither have awakened you at that hour nor made the dragonfly wait in the glass until you got up.
I suppose if I'd been really
sensible I'd have gotten timprov
to come with his camera and get a picture of it, but you have to recall that it was also 6:30 for me. Which is better than 6:30 for other mortals, but still.
If I'd been in the house I'd have been pleased to be awakened for a dragonfly, but I can well understand that, at that time, you simply wanted to remove it to a nice yard where it could eat mosquitoes.
I can't parse 70's-colored, though. Avocado and harvest gold?
That one orange and that one brown.
I briefly lived in a house where there was a bedroom done up in that one brown and another in that one orange :)
There was also a baby blue and a scarlet bedroom. The kitchen was avocado. I liked the orange room the best, as the wallpaper had spaceships. In orange and related tones.
It was an interesting house, said sincerely when referring to the layout, said with some sarcasm when referring to the decor.
Oh, to clarify somewhat, it was a temporary rental while our family was between houses and had just moved cross-country. Neither myself nor anyone I'm related to had a hand in decorating it.
P. and I were discussing this, and we both thought that variegated meadowhawks would very aptly be described as 70's-colored.
I had tried to shoo it back outside last night. Ista was very concerned. But I could not handle both Ista and the dragonfly so I let it stay.
Based on the things that you can get from your library, your confidence in your library board is not misplaced.
I am still very firmly in the squishing insects camp, though I suppose I could probably make an exception for dragonflies, due to the mosquito eating.
I should probably also expel the tiny arachnid that's taken up residence in my shower at some point - because I don't mind it being around eating things, but it can't stay there.
"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here" is a perfectly cromulent approach to arachnids in your shower.
And in fact I dealt with the arachnid this morning, by depositing it outside. So that's over and done with.
Good work with the dragonfly.
I'm the self-anointed bug catcher-and-releaser in my office. I even have a couple sizes of glasses ready for the catching. *g* So long as the bug is on the plus side of the register (does more good than harm), it gets rescued and released to the streetscape outside. Much to my surprise earlier this summer, I got to apply this policy to a full-grown praying mantis which had become trapped in the revolving door of the bank building opposite us. (That time, I had to beg a cup from the Starbucks in the lobby; nice clerk was helpful.)
Recently, though, at home we've been dealing with European hornets intent on driving away anything that might try to take over the apples on the Granny Smith tree in the front yard. (Not my house, not my choice of planting area....) Those I cheerfully kill any time they make it through the screens and doors and into the house.
May all your visitors be dragonflies and none of them hornets.