Well, I have thus far emerged victorious this summer in my battle of the bugs. Most wives sleep with a shotgun under the bed. I sleep with bug spray and a fly swatter.
I have, though, grown quite interested in the ugly creatures that invade my home. I spend so much time in my garden, I am bound to look a few in the eye while I'm out there. I willingly admit to spending hours on the internet researching types of bugs. Some are quite interesting and beautiful.
I still haven't figured out what kind of spider this is. Any ideas? *apparently this is a milkweed assassin bug nymph. Cool huh?
The ones that are outside, I don't mind so much. But, my least favorite is the American Cockroach. They are disgusting. They carry disease. They multiply in your house. They die on their backs and dry and shrivel up and are disgusting to clean up. There was one dead by my porch door that was so disgusting I wouldn't go near it. I just put a cup over it until I could find someone to clean it up for me. (Two weeks it sat there. Thanks Sherri for cleaning it up.) Since then though I've become more brave and killed this sucker:
And though my craziness is quite evident, I am not alone. I have a friend who put up this sign at her house:
I'm pretty sure the pest control man who came today is in love with cockroaches. He kept talking about them and standing up for them. I guess you've gotta be passionate about something.
Reason #896 Adam needs to come home: Kill the giant bugs that are trying to eat me.
