by Sig Wynne-Evans

Created on: February 15, 2010

This past Sunday was a glorious day. It was bright and sunny, the temperature was perfect. I had a day at home with nothing that HAD to be done. I pretty much planned on spending the day beading Halloween themed earrings for the Halfmoon Bay Pumpkin festival this coming weekend. I had my favorite music playing, some  herbal iced tea and my beads before me. Lucy, my parrot, beside me to keep me company. What could possibly be more enjoyable?

I was happy to be sitting and beading. It is rare when I can devote a day to beading. But as fate would have it, my happy session of beading was about to end. My perfect day would soon become a Holy Mess. All due to a six legged, compound eyed, winged servant of the Devil.

The day turned bad slowly. A fly would land on my beading tray. I would wave it away. Then it would land on my arm. I threatened it with my other hand, and it flew off. Next, I could feel all 6 of its legs marching up my leg. I shook it off. Then it landed on my face. Ok…this is getting damned annoying. Maybe if I annihilated the damned thing I could bead in peace. It was absolutely INSISTENT on being a pest.

Have you noticed that there is something about the Fall that turns flies absolutely FRANTIC? Sure, they are annoying all year long. You know they land on the lawn sausages left in the backyard by the dog, and that their love nest is a pile of rotting garbage. They are disease-carrying pains in the butt that can ruin a wonderful outdoor meal. And if you have your mouth open at the wrong time, as I once did, the foul creature will dance on your tongue and bounce off your mouth’s interior like a game of Pin-Ball. (Thankfully, he did not fly to the back of my throat, making me swallow him!). Yes they are annoying all year long, but the Fall brings out their worst. Maybe it is the final frenzy before winter.

Where is it that they go to during the winter, anyways?

As I was swatting that cursed fly, Lucy was watching me with wide-eyed interest. I am sure my antics were amusing her. Every time I shooed the fly away she would look at me as if I were doing a little dance, and she would make silly sounds. She was finding my movements quite entertaining.

I had to catch that fly, and dispose of it. I was tired of being disturbed by it. It was beginning to change my mood from content to being totally aggravated. I really wanted to get some beadwork done.  It was time to put my fly killing skills to work.

When I was a kid, I would be amazed

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