The other night — as in, three nights ago, one of the evenings to the beautiful over-15-deg-C days — a fly tickled me. That was just odd. They usually don’t “bug” me. The next day, there seemed to be a slew of them around, big ol’ “houseflies”. And easy to swat. And then I realized — I was swatting them in pairs. Apparently being in “fliegre\anto” dilecto makes ’em slow.
It didn’t end there, though. By the end of the day there were flies all over the place. We don’t have window screens in this little burg in Germany, and no matter what I tried to convince them to LEAVE the house, they refused. No way was I going to leave the windows closed on such beautiful weather, either.
So began the long siege. I began to wonder what was lying in the floorboards, or in a window casing, that brought on the infestation of the flies. The kitty toilet was cleaned out. There was no rotting anything hiding anywhere that I could find.
Some friends came by to help me eat that marvelous Panang curry (previous blog post), and I broached the subject of the flies. “OH!” my colleague said “They’re terrible! Apparently there is some bird that keeps them under control but the weather was too warm so the flies came early and the birds have not arrived yet”.
Well. I could use a hungry spider right about now. Or a bat. Or do they only eat mosquitos?
