I have had many jobs. I am an occupation collector, an aficionado, as it were. This week I have taken on a new role. Call me FLY KILLER. No, call me FLIES-NO-MORE. No, call me FLY ANNIHILATOR…The FLY-INATOR!!! Oh my goodness the flies in Kentucky this summer. Each time the door opens another fly buzzes right in. Often it’s more like seventeen flies invade my territory. They are making me crazy. There is a constant buzzing sound, not that I am sensitive to sound or anything. They bop their little fly heads into mirrors and windows with popping sounds. They engage in Top Gun style fly-bys. My head has become the tower, Ghostwriter.
My job has been to kill the flies as quickly and as frequently as I can.
After some research I have discovered that there are many old wives tale types of fly repellents. One woman fills a bag with water and places it near her door and the flies run away screaming, umm, what? Several others rub various oils on themselves and their belongings to repel the little buggers. The basil oil home remedy caught my attention. I quickly grabbed a fistful of basil leaves from my potted plant garden and brought them inside thinking perhaps basil leaves works like basil oil. But wait, there are flies all around the basil plant. Not gonna help.
So the swatting resumes. You know, flies are so light and bouyant that they get knocked out of the way of my hand by the air pressure that precedes my well-aimed blow. I’m sure there is some physics formula for that. Oh, and I should mention that I do not own a fly swatter, naturally. The most delightfully successful manner of killing flies has turned out to be the miniblinds in our beautiful rental home. The flies get busy buzzing the window, I stealthily turn the wand to close the blinds, and then WHAM! I smash the bug between the glass and the plastic. Then I call Dave and sweetly ask him to clean the schmush off the window.
Today, though, my fly killing reached an all time high. Really, it reached an all time low. Flies are disgusting. They congregate on filth and then carry particles around to the next surface they choose to light upon. Truly nasty. I am religious about covering anything edible in our house. All countertops get sanitized regularly. My dishes are behind locked doors. Okay, they are in the cupboard. Then, feeling my afternoon slump, I made a delicious cup of coffee. I made it with boiling water, so it needed to cool a bit. I carried it to the table next to my Bible. That is when I heard it. The buzz. It was so fast I didn’t even have time to react. There was the buzz and then the splat. The fly flew directly into my hot cup of coffee. He made a pitiful attempt to get out that looked and sounded more like a taser victim’s seizure, then he just floated around and around in my cup, dead. I do not know if it was the liquid or the heat or the caffeine that got him, but it was gross. Now I think the sacrificial use of every available tool makes me a terrific fly assassin.
Just call me SUPER-FLY.