Bugs!

Well, the week has not been the most spectacular but now I feel a whole lot better. In fact, I feel so much better that I've decided to hold the rants to a minimum. Only positive posts! And I won't call you peasants any more, I promise. Blork took me to task and I value Blork's opinion above many others' opinions, so I promise that from now on you shall be referred to as my "loyal readers." See, that just spreads a gentle glow throughout my entire body already. We're healin' now, people!

If I feel a rant or any such other thought coming on, I will confine it to . . . umm, okay, well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?

You might remember that my very good friend Jacques, he of the bass player for the Montreal Symphony, is off on a goodly tour of Europe to enlighten the peasants . . . er, "listening public" as to the joys of Brahms, Strauss and that da-da-da-dum guy. (How I wish he played jazz! But I digress). (And I like that da-da-da-dum guy!)

Anyway, he has what they call a "cottage" 'round these parts but in actuality is a very nice two storey-house on the side of a mountain opposite a ski resort. And I mean . .. REALLY nice.

Let me tell you, the only sounds I can hear are my fingers on the keys, the hum of the computer and Brigitte puttering downstairs.

However, this blissful tranquility has been err . . . disturbed in a number of ways. A million of them, in fact.

For reference, please read my short science-faction story here. That will tell you my fond opinion about . . . BUGS!

Poor old Jacques can only make it out here about once a week and only stay a couple of days at a time, and there's only one of him. But there are about 7,869 ladybugs. (Yes, loyal readers, that's where I lost count). And he made the mistake (even as I type I shudder) of leaving an open cereal box in the kitchen cabinet . . . do you know how many large ants can fit in a small space? Christ, I thought ants were big when I saw Them! back in the 60s, but, heck . . . where's Marshall Dillon when you REALLY need him?

Anyway, the solution proved to be the vacuum. Don't try this at home, folks. No, just run screaming out of it.

When I first stayed here several weeks ago I just laughed and said "Look, Brigitte, there are ladybugs sharing our bed!" And she paused from her fingernails and said "Isn't that sweet, dear?"

This is NOT a rant. I miss every tiny despicable red-and-black crawling mindless one of them.