Thursday, September 15, 2011

Ode to the Drosophila


Okay I'm showing off-- it's a fruit fly.
It's the season; they swarm in silently and they'll swarm out when it darned well pleases them.
I read somewhere that when civilization crumbles, the fruit fly will be the last living organism to pack it in and I believe that.
Open the fridge and a couple fly out; lift the lid off the tea pot--same thing.
To keep them at bay, my kitchen waste container remains outside  on the deck by the kitchen door, lid firmly shut. No matter--I open it to add more stuff and a cloud of them fly out, apparently having just met, courted, married, produced children and grandchildren in a five minute period.
No one will accuse me of wanted to be known for my spotless housekeeping but even I have qualms when those minuscule wretches are flitting about. There are only a few at any time, but they're there.
In the morning while I wait for the kettle to boil, I dampen a dishcloth and have at them, perched on the cupboard doors, probably wiggling their ears and chanting, "nah nah de nah nah."
Seems they are handy for lab experiments but frankly I wish they'd stick around the lab and leave us humble folk alone.
End of complaint.

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