Here at Rosings Park we've endured bad contractors, leaky roofs, flooded basements, (sort of) stolen camera equipment, and a hostile neighbor cat. Now we're suffering an insect infestation: our home is being overrun by ladybugs.
The first documented ladybug in the house was the one I ate at the end of October:
I'm sitting at my desk, composing this weblog entry. I'm listening to Neutral Milk Hotel and munching on hickory smoke flavored soy nuts. As I'm mousing around, I bump into a soy bean that I must have dropped. Without looking, I snatch it and pop it into my mouth.
Crunch crunch crunch.
"Hm," I think. "That doesn't taste very much like hickory smoke. It tastes rather like grass. In fact, it tastes gross." And so I spit it out into my hand only to see that I have not been gnashing a stray soy bean but a stray lady bug.
Since then, the ladybug presence has grown from a couple a week to a couple a day. We'll be sitting watching Upstairs, Downstairs or playing World of Warcraft and a ladybug will alight on us. Or we'll hear one tik tik tikking against the light fixture.
Kris and I disagree over the source of the ladybug infestation. "I think they're coming in from outside," she says. "They're coming in the window in the entertainment room."
"What makes you think that?" I say. "There's no evidence that this is the case. And why would they choose only that window? Plus, look at it: it's sealed tight. I think there's a ladybug nest someplace in the room. Maybe in the Christmas cactus. I think they're reproducing."
"Right. What evidence do you have for that?" asks Kris. "Where are the ladybug eggs? The ladybug larvae? Why aren't we seeing even more of them?"
So, we really don't have any idea where the ladybugs are coming from. Meanwhile, they've started making their way from upstairs to downstairs. There were a couple in the kitchen last night. We don't really mind. It's kind of fun to have a ladybug infestation. "If they were any other bug, we'd be grossed out," Kris observed last night. "But ladybugs are like friendly visitors from the insect world."
I don't recall that I've mentioned this before, but it's an interesting follow-up. Last February, some camera equipment was stolen from the trunk of my car. Only it wasn't. The thief took the bag from the car, and then dumped the camera and lenses in the bushes at the edge of the property. (He kept the cell phone. He didn't take several hundred dollars in checks that were on the back seat.) Joel found the camera equipment when he was here in March.
Later in the year, somebody broke into Kris's car. They didn't take anything from the front, but they opened her trunk and stole the first aid kit and miscellaneous roadside emergency supplies.
What sort of thief is this? He leaves compact discs and checks (and a checkbook!) and thousands of dollars in camera equipment, but he takes a cell phone (easily deactivated in minutes), flares, and a first aid kit? I don't get it.
On this day at foldedspace.org
2007 — 605 BZT In which I am thwarted by a slow driver.
2003 — I Hurt Myself Laughing In which I share a photo of a shaved cat.