Bug Tales

I would have to admit that life in the south is generally pretty good. The weather, apart from the occasional tornado watch, is never truly horrible, people are genuinely nice, and there's enough history around for a European like me to soak up. But there is one aspect of life down here that I'm not sure I will ever get used to: the bugs.

My first encounter with the giant roaches that live in this part of the world was when I lived in Texas a few years ago. I was standing in our kitchen, when I suddenly felt something tickle my foot. I looked down, and saw a cockroach the size of my thumb scurrying along the sideboard. With a terrifying scream I launched myself on to our counter, where I spent a good few minutes making incoherent yelping sounds and wild gestures. The cockroach disappeared, but I was besides myself. For the Americans among us, do keep in mind that in Europe only the most disgusting homes host cockroaches. Convinced that our house was somehow unsanitary, I went on a cleaning rampage until a local friend told me that these bugs actually live in trees and fly into your house. How reassuring. Fortunately, I saw no more roaches after that one encounter, and when I moved back to Europe, I pretty much forgot about them.
Until this summer. We were hunting for some new furniture, and at one store, I decided to wait in the car. And once again, I felt that familiar tickling feeling. I looked down, and saw a cockroach trying to climb up my bare leg. I believe I almost fell out of the car trying to get out, and ran into the large furniture store, panting for my husband. He assured me that our truck was not infested with roaches, but that they had probably escaped from some boxes shipped from Europe, which we had taken home in our truck. In spite of his admonitions that I had probably scared the poor cockroach to death, I rode home with my legs pretty much up in my neck. When we got home, I made a beeline for the boxes, picked them up, and then dropped them when I saw another huge brown bug crawl away. Suddenly I had visions of a house full of these brown, hard-shelled pests, and too afraid to squash it, chase it out, or even move, I just stood there and said "There, there, there", much to my husband's amusement. That day I bombed our entire house and the truck, and except for one occasion (which I will save for a blog about "husbands and their quirks") I have not seen a cockroach in our house since. But I know they're out there...

And the worst part is, it's not just cockroaches. Here in the south we also have a lovely variant of fly, the yellow fly. These are enormous, yellow-tinted flies that sting humans and leave round, red and very itchy welts the size of a quarter. They love water, and so are especially populous at my in-laws' home, who own a large piece of land with a pond. Their stings are incredibly painful, so, whenever I see one of these flying pains around, I can't help but start jumping. I can tell you that learning how to shoot a rifle while jumping away from yellow flies is not a good idea. No crazy shots were fired, and one got hurt, but I did decide to restrict my shooting lessons to cooler days:)

And although they're not exactly bugs, I was also delighted to discover the existence of poisonous snakes. A theme in my life seems to be that I never learn about these creatures beforehand, I always somehow discover them through a chance-encounter. I saw my first real life, 2-ft long snake while mountain biking. The black snake had been sitting off the side of the trail, where my husband had seen it. He, however, decided it would be best not tell me, as that could startle me. Although his intentions were sweet, I just about launched myself off the trail when the creature suddenly slithered in front of my bike.

So, life down here is not all fun and games....
That said, I am now going to get me some sweet tea, sit on our porch swing, and watch the world go by :)