We’re all obsessed with insects.
Farmboy’s collection of insects are entombed in plastic, which is a very good thing, because if I saw one of these crawling around the house I would probably exit with speed and never come back (and yes, I know it isn’t an insect, but I’m using artistic license).
I wish some other bugs were entombed in plastic.
In total contrast to the past few years of drought, it’s been pretty wet this spring. The alternating rain and sunshine has done wonders for the pasture, the crops are looking okay, but the warmth and moisture are also perfect growing conditions for insects.
The ants are swarming around the gate posts again, the bees are all over the garden, the earwigs are making concerted efforts to take over the house and demolish my vegetable seedlings. There’s even a plague of bugs on the heads of local school kids, and we’ve enjoyed some lovely family bonding sessions with a bottle of conditioner and a fine toothed comb, trying to ensure we aren’t afflicted.
But the worst of all, undoubtedly, are the flies. Bushflies are bad enough- they chase after any moisture they can find, launching themselves aggressively into eyes and noses and cups of tea. We’re constantly performing the Aussie salute, and I’ve already swallowed my fair share while out digging in the garden.
These are the evil ones though:
And more on them tomorrow.
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