INSECTS: can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em. I’m not sure why we can’t live without ’em. Something to do with yonder ecosystem.
But there’s no denying they’re a thundering nuisance at times.
As I sit here writing, a fat bluebottle is buzzin’ aboot the place.
Keeps making me lose my train of thought as, periodically, it blunders aboot near ma heid, causing me to flap at it in a panic.
There’s half a huge steak pie sitting out on the kitchen surface too. If it goes anywhere near that, it’ll be getting shown the door.
Though, as you’ve probably noticed, they’re not very good with exits.
You get one on a window pane, so you open the window a bit to let it out, and it still bangs its heid on the glass thinking that’s the surest way to freedom. Numpties.
Clambering
I will say I’ve occasionally observed with pleasure shiny, colourful beetles in the garden. I like the dogged way they clamber over stalks of grass.
Do you ever do that? Not clamber over stalks of grass. I mean get down close to ground level and observe the little world down there. A lot going on.
There are many bees in my garden, and there were such a lot of bluebells in spring. I keep reading that both species are on their last legs.
Not here they ain’t. As usual, I’ll be rescuing any bees in distress, taking them out of the shade and into the sunlight if they’re feeling wabbit. The warmth perks them up.
We like bees because they’re fluffy. Poor old wasps don’t receive the same affection. I’ve had to get rid of a couple of bikes (nests) in my time.
I suppose if they weren’t so tetchy, we might love them more. Mind you, they probably think I’m tetchy too.
Delicacy?
Sometimes, the peerie birds in the garden come and show me an insect they’ve caught, proudly standing with the beastie in their beaks as if to say: “Look, Rab – me hunter!”
Can’t say I’d fancy eating insects myself, though there have been calls for us to do so, instead of scoffing animals.
That way we could save the thingummyjig – the planet – and still get our vitamins and minerals.
Methinks insects would need a lot of broon sauce, though. Besides, I make it a point never to eat anything with its eyes and antennae still on.
I’d also prefer if they were free range rather than factory farmed. And they’d need to be humanely stunned before being slaughtered.
Humphrey the moth
I hate to say it but you can’t really trust insects. I once made pals with a wee moth. It used to buzz about my laptop screen in the evening, getting a heat from it, I think.
I called it Humphrey and tried to train it to fetch sticks.
Unfortunately, next thing I knew, the hoose was infested with hundreds of the beasties, which regarded my carpets the same way you and I regard sausage rolls or ice cream: yummy!
I had to get rid of them all. Humphrey had already deserted me by this time, probably fed up with all the stick-fetching. I still miss him sometimes. I especially used to like when he gave me a paw.
