Seriously bugged – Devil’s Lake Daily Journal

By Lorry Myers

I woke at my usual time, stumbled into the kitchen and noticed a flock of black birds grazing outside my screened-in porch. The next morning, they were back, pecking away uninvited. They were big birds, dark and greasy, and ignored me when I tried to shoo them away.

These birds were starting to bug me. After dinner I told my husband about the mysterious flock of vultures and described their creepy behavior. From the porch I watched as Randy walked to the spot where the birds flocked each morning.

He scuffed his toe in the grass, and then slowly looked up, shielding his eyes to see the top of our big, old birch tree. “Houston,” Randy called as he abruptly stood up and walked back to the porch, “we have a problem.” They started at the top and were gnawing their way down when the birds gave them away.

Japanese beetles chewed those green leaves until they resembled fragile brown lace. When I looked up into the birch branches, hundreds of beetles stared back. Now I was seriously bugged.

Randy purchased a couple “beetle traps” and hung them in central locations. The top of the trap is baited with a mating scent that attracts the beetles into a hanging bag below. The bags have a zip lock on the bottom to easily empty the captured bugs.

By the time both traps were hung, the excited insects were dive-bombing my face and landing in my hair. These beetles were really bugging me. From the porch, Randy and I had a clear view as those traps swayed in the breeze. “I hate everything about this,” I whined, as we watched the beetles swarm to get in and out of that trap.

“Oh come on,” Randy said, “do you have a better idea? We could spray the tree with chemicals so this, at least, is better than that.” My husband is aware that I live by a creepy crawly policy that simply states, “I don’t touch them, I don’t want to know about them, and I don’t want to see them.”

Knowing that, he started teasing me about the massive number of creepy crawlers, offering me large sums of money if he could watch while I emptied the beetle trap. Now my husband was also starting to bug me. When it was time to empty the trap, Randy’s plan was to hold a disposable sack underneath the hanging trap, unzip it at the bottom and watch the bugs fall into the disposal sack.

The first trap went as planned; the second, however, had a hitch in the zip lock. Randy worked and wiggled it and finally lifted the bag above his head so he could better see the problem. Then, he jerked the zipper again and this time it worked.

Oh boy did it work. In slow motion I watched those beetles spill out, showering my husband in black rain. A raw smell filled the air as all things beetle emptied from that trap.

Frenzied beetles flew around Randy’s head as he danced and squealed and swatted himself, using words in ways I never would. When the traps were empty and someone had thrown their clothes in the trash, showered more than once and shampooed multiple times, I knew Randy was over the beetle business. But it wasn’t the black birds, damaged tree and beetle juice that did it.

Instead, Randy told me, I should have come out of the porch and helped him instead of “falling out of my chair and laughing like a crazy fool.”

At the end of the day, that’s what bugged him the most.

Reach Lorry Myers at lorrysstorys@gmail.com.

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  1. RT @truckerworld: Seriously bugged – Devil’s Lake Daily Journal https://t.co/kD4aE2ZaZ9 #road #freight #cargo

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