Bugs. Winter gives many people on the mainland a break from them. We have various bug seasons throughout the year here in the rainforest, but we never get a total reprieve. There is gnat season in the fall which corresponds to the waiwi guava trees bearing fruit. We have beetles, which swarm for several days following the gnats, then suddenly disappear. We always have spiders to take advantage of the gnats and the beetles. Then, there are the mutant mosquitoes; huge yet incredibly fragile buggahs that rarely bite. If you blow on them hard or spray them with a spritz of water, they whither and break apart. Mosquitoes on other parts of the island can be voracious. Be sure to carry your Deep Woods Off when you head into Waipio Valley, Lava Tree State Park or the Hawaii Tropical Botanical Gardens. If you're not protected, they'll eat you alive. By contrast, our mosquitoes don't do much of anything. Their primary proclivity is to venture into the house to die. I suck, sweep and wipe up mosquito legs by the thousands. Doing so is a daily chore. Sometimes the legs are attached to bodies. Often times not.
We also have the slowest house flies I've ever seen. Mr. Miyagi would have a field day with these guys. Even Daniel-san could have caught these winged irritants with chopsticks on his first try. I prefer to use a vacuum hose. They seem to have suicidal tendencies. I guess if I found out I was only going to live for 24 hours, I'd want to kill myself too. Their preferred locations are the window runners or between the screen and the glass. How they get there, I haven't a clue.
Even in winter, if we get a sunny day, flying critters hatch out. Tiny moths tickle your skin as they flutter and land on you while mowing the lawn. Yellow Jackets buzz into the house, then commit seppuku on the screens and fall onto the window sills. I guess we've been pretty lucky these past few days. When the rain comes out of the sky in sheets, there are fewer bugs. Fewer, but still plenty. And plenty of detached legs.
I heard some sad news today. Nori, my neighbor's adorably sweet dog, passed away. I babysat Nori several times. In these past few weeks, the only place Nori has wanted to go on her walks is up our driveway to visit her friends. Nori and my poochies would exchange friendly doggie pleasantries. They have become buddies over the weeks and months. Nori would then flop down in the driveway to rest while her mom and I chatted. Nori was nearly 14 years old. She's been struggling with her health for a few months now, showing signs of congestive heart failure. She went peacefully, in her own home with her human at her side. I know her mommy will miss her terribly. I'm going to miss her, too.
It's been exactly two years since I moved to Hawaii. Hard to believe. It feels like eight.
Nah! Just kidding. It only feels like seven!
A hui hou! Aloha!
We also have the slowest house flies I've ever seen. Mr. Miyagi would have a field day with these guys. Even Daniel-san could have caught these winged irritants with chopsticks on his first try. I prefer to use a vacuum hose. They seem to have suicidal tendencies. I guess if I found out I was only going to live for 24 hours, I'd want to kill myself too. Their preferred locations are the window runners or between the screen and the glass. How they get there, I haven't a clue.
Even in winter, if we get a sunny day, flying critters hatch out. Tiny moths tickle your skin as they flutter and land on you while mowing the lawn. Yellow Jackets buzz into the house, then commit seppuku on the screens and fall onto the window sills. I guess we've been pretty lucky these past few days. When the rain comes out of the sky in sheets, there are fewer bugs. Fewer, but still plenty. And plenty of detached legs.
I heard some sad news today. Nori, my neighbor's adorably sweet dog, passed away. I babysat Nori several times. In these past few weeks, the only place Nori has wanted to go on her walks is up our driveway to visit her friends. Nori and my poochies would exchange friendly doggie pleasantries. They have become buddies over the weeks and months. Nori would then flop down in the driveway to rest while her mom and I chatted. Nori was nearly 14 years old. She's been struggling with her health for a few months now, showing signs of congestive heart failure. She went peacefully, in her own home with her human at her side. I know her mommy will miss her terribly. I'm going to miss her, too.
It's been exactly two years since I moved to Hawaii. Hard to believe. It feels like eight.
Nah! Just kidding. It only feels like seven!
A hui hou! Aloha!
Comments