Plain and simple...flies.
I am not one to smush bugs, it's the whole squish factor that gives me the shudders...the bits of guts and stuff lying there, waiting to be picked up by a piece of paper. The crunch of a body as you hit it with the newspaper (usually forgetting you've not read that section, therefore ruining any chance of reading it later).
Here, I dash in and out of the little red sub-let, trying to beat the hordes of flies that seem to think their place is inside, with the terrier and I. There is nothing for them to even consider eating... looking around, all you can see are papers and my heels from the wedding. You think they'd rather join their 47 gajillion buddies out there crawling on cows and sheep and horses and their leavings.
In various places, they've hung jar like contraptions.... full of some liquid that lures the flies to come and taste. Once inside, they fall into said liquid and drown. The plus side is, it kills a shitload of flies. The downside is...they are transparent, so, you get to see this gallon jar full of dead fly bodies.
There's a job I wouldn't want.
There are a number of jobs I wouldn't want... shoveling manure (done that), cleaning a septic tank, being a dental hygienist, having to tell a director his film is over budget.
And emptying the jar o'flies.
Tonight, however, I'll be lying out on the lawn, viewing the light show... thankful the flies go to sleep at some point. Until then, I'll make a half hearted attempt to swat them, not sure if I'm happy or not when I miss.
Okay, I'll be honest... I'm glad when I miss.
It's the squish factor. ew