GAAAHHHH!!! Bug up skirt!!!!

Silence Dogood here. Well, sort of here. As faithful readers know, I like wearing skirts. Preferably long, loose, comfortable skirts. I wear them to garden. I wear them to hike. I wear them on the beach. I find skirts comfortable, unconfining, modest, and flattering. Keep your damned blue jeans, say I, and give me a rough-and-tumble denim skirt or a swirly broomstick skirt or an elegant, silky black evening skirt any day (or night).

So yes, I love skirts. But I hate bugs. (See my earlier post on stink bugs for more on this.) Mind you, I have absolutely nothing against bugs that live peacefully outside and leave me alone. But bugs in the house, bugs that dive-bomb me, and, worse still, bugs that get on me are another matter.

We’re organic gardeners here at Hawk’s Haven. We not only don’t spray chemicals, we don’t spray, period. We’re lucky enough to have plenty of beneficial insects, birds, bats, toads, and other bug-eaters on-premises to help us keep pest populations under control without any assistance from us. We do get ladybugs and lacewings for the greenhouse every once in awhile, but that’s about as far as it goes. You’d think the wretched bugs would be grateful. But ooohhh, nooooo!

I was just sitting in our home office seconds ago, reading gardening blogs and fantasizing about adding a few plants to our deck garden, when I rested my hand on my thigh. And felt an odd bump under the fabric of my skirt. Hmmmm, my thighs might not qualify me for the Miss America swimsuit competition, but still, I wouldn’t have said they were bumpy….

GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! The reality belatedly dawns. Screaming and shrieking, I leap up from the computer chair, enthusiastically hauling my skirt up to my chin, much to the astonishment and amusement of our friend Ben.

Sure enough, there is a bug on my leg. Mercifully, it is not that most-feared bug—a tick—but instead is a harmless and in fact beneficial hover fly, one of those little flies that disguises itself as a bee and actually goes after bad bugs in the garden. With a huge sigh of relief, I attempt to capture the little guy so I can release him outside when CRASH!!! FLUMP!!! SMASH!!! Suddenly, my beautiful office houseplants begin falling to the floor in a wave of water (I’d of course just watered them all an hour ago), wet soil, broken leaves, and snapped-off stems.

GAAAHHHHHHH!!! LINUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET DOOOWNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!

Sure enough, my screams and flailing on discovering the bug have terrified my huge and beautiful but not-too-bright Maine coon-like cat, Linus, who has leapt up from the sunny windowsill where he was dozing and made a beeline for the door, leaving a path of destruction in his wake. Now the carpet is covered with mud, water, and assorted plant parts. The tops of the filing cabinets are awash. Linus is in seclusion (just as well). The poor hoverfly has departed for parts unknown. Our friend Ben is risking imminent death while trying not to fall on the floor laughing. And my last nerve has just been utterly shredded.

Bugs! Cats! GAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!