Wednesday, June 29, 2011


It's taking me a little bit of work to get used to the bugs. Our former pad in downtown Seattle, WA, was about as bug free as a place can get. (With the exception of the bee hive that formed while we were traveling the coast by train last summer; thankfully that mischief was managed by a pro, pronto.) 

Our Texan experience is a bit different. We've already fought off a colony of red ants and been visited by a Locust Borer Beetle, which is quite pretty and whom my friend Helen named Marco. And in the past few days a bunch of belly-up exoskeletons were discovered in the garage. The latter really had me squeamish. I'm already obsessing about making sure the kitchen is spotless before we head to bed, and as soon as those little buggers made an appearance I started double bagging the garbage - no damn cockroaches inside, please! Gross, yuck, ick, shiver, and ewwww, I hate bugs!

Flash forward to this morning, as I amble on down the stairs I notice an out-of-place dot on the carpet in our tv room, which adjoins the kitchen. Ugh. I was hopeful that it was a giant piece of lint, or a puff from the carpet, even, please god, a large crumb from the brownie I devoured the night before while watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone with Mr. Tex-Eck. Nope. As feared, it's a belly-up critter, still wiggling the front most right leg as though gasping for me to save it. No. Way. In. Hell was I about to touch it. Thank goodness for renting - a quick call to management later in the day and the exterminator is on the way. 

As I'm waiting for the bug-buster I keep walking past this creature and wondering if I should pick it up or dispose of it. Does the bug guy need to see it? Need to know where the death occurred? Is this like insect CSI? Remember - Seattle, no bugs? As the afternoon goes on and no bug dude has arrived, I decide to put the thing in the trash. And that's when I learned a valuable lesson. Had I picked the thing up earlier I would have seen that it was not, in fact, a cock-a-roach (just me, or does Scar Face echo here), but instead was a June-bug. Trust me, from the belly they look alike. Lesson learned and easier sleep achieved. 



  1. Good 'ole Marco. I wonder how he's doing?

    I really hated the bugs in Texas too. You won't get used to them, but buy a pair of heavy shoes. It helps. ;-)

    What's with us and the insects lately? You with all the critters, and me with the bee that stung me. Geez! Hoping July is better for us. :-)

  2. Gigantor bugs were one of the main reasons I turned down a job in Missouri. Eeeew! Good luck, and make Mr. Tex-Eck deal with 'em. :) My hubs is originally from Beaumont, but as much as I love him, there's no way we're moving there. Fight the good fight!

  3. Ladies, fantastic advice. I will be especially quick to share it with Mr. Tex Eck! Thanks for checking out the blog from CA and PA!

  4. Best of luck - it gets easier with time. In comparison, it's hard to top a collection of baby cockroaches living in your telephone/answering machine device (LA, 1996).

  5. Oh! That's awful, psorr! Certainly puts things in perspective.

  6. OK, let's back had bees in Seattle and you didn't call Brad the beekeeper to get them out of your place! They could have made so much honey!

    hee hee...bugs, ick...big bugs, ickier, cockroaches, ickiest...hang in there...

  7. Lol, Rachel! I don't think these were the honey making kind. They were the mean-waspy kind, not good neighbors, I assure you!

  8. I am playing belated catch-up on your blog...I've been in The South for 5 years now and I am STILL not used to the gigantic bugs here. *shudder* However, I have become less squeamish about them in general (as long as they are OUTSIDE of my home).

    Hang in there - as a fellow NW-erner in a new Southern area, I feel your pain!