Buzzkill!
Aaaaaaah, Spring. It's impossible not to love it: Tender buds creep forth from the soil to greet the sun. The grass is preternaturally, electrically green and you can literally watch it grow. Love is in the air, the birds speak excitedly to each other as they flit from branch to branch, and your skin drinks in the sun's rays like a dehydrated man stumbling on an oasis in the desert.
And the hatching of the annual annoyance: a gazillion flies. The very definition of 'buzzkill' in an otherwise beautiful season.
I had nearly forgotten the familiar constant buzz of being divebombed by flies that appear from nowhere. And enormous ones, at that. They must feed on the pasta.
Only a few days into the hatch, and I'm almost desperate enough to try THIS. (Isn't the internet an amazing thing?!?!)
And the hatching of the annual annoyance: a gazillion flies. The very definition of 'buzzkill' in an otherwise beautiful season.
I had nearly forgotten the familiar constant buzz of being divebombed by flies that appear from nowhere. And enormous ones, at that. They must feed on the pasta.
Only a few days into the hatch, and I'm almost desperate enough to try THIS. (Isn't the internet an amazing thing?!?!)
posted by Viaggiatore | 4/10/2006
2 Comments:
So at what point do you light the match?
DaisyBoy
Seriously? The VERY same thing kept running through my head as I read those directions. As if we didn't know it before, we're obviously similarly twisted! -V.
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