Flies
I went to the basement for my morning shower. Actually it was more like 1:00PM after my hours of idleness reading the paper, doing crosswords and having coffee. We are currently showering in the basement bathroom because our main floor shower/tub is still having problems.
There was buzzing as I went down the stairs. In an old house, any odd sound alerts the senses to a possible disaster. I found the source of the buzzing and kind of freaked, but told myself, "Not a problem. I can deal with this after my shower".
The buzzing came from flies on the large window. Maybe two dozen large flies. I was okay with that until I got to the basement door that leads outside. The door's window also had a large group of flies buzzing around. And then I looked at the window above the laundry sink and saw still more flies.
Sorry, I kind of lost my sanity. I slowly moved back to the staircase, afraid to move quickly because it would stir up the flies. When I returned upstairs safely without being attacked by flies, I stood in front of Marty unable to speak for a few moments. When my brain reconnected my speech area, I blubbered, "I can't shower down there. It's not right, it's bad, I'm freaked out."
Marty had no idea what I was talking about and I got even more flustered because he just looked at me. I blurted out, "Flies, all over the basement, everywhere, I can't be naked down there with all the flies!"
We went back to the basement and Marty opened the window to shoo the flies out. He said it wasn't bad and by the look on his face, I knew he was silently questioning my sanity because of the way I freaked out earlier. I pointed him towards the door and the other window. Marty then understood my panic.
I took my shower with both windows and the door wide open and Marty shooing flies outside.
Where did they come from? We have a cat door so the outside strays can come into the basement and sometimes they leave me a present of a dead bird or mouse. They usually leave such things right out in the open. Marty searched the basement and found nothing, not even an odor of a decaying carcass. Where did all the flies come from?
Sounds like some old black/white cheezy horror movie. Fortunately, not a single fly turned it's head towards me and pleaded, "Help me" in a squeeky voice. That would truly make it perfectly fine for me to freak out.
"Hellllp meeee".
There was buzzing as I went down the stairs. In an old house, any odd sound alerts the senses to a possible disaster. I found the source of the buzzing and kind of freaked, but told myself, "Not a problem. I can deal with this after my shower".
The buzzing came from flies on the large window. Maybe two dozen large flies. I was okay with that until I got to the basement door that leads outside. The door's window also had a large group of flies buzzing around. And then I looked at the window above the laundry sink and saw still more flies.
Sorry, I kind of lost my sanity. I slowly moved back to the staircase, afraid to move quickly because it would stir up the flies. When I returned upstairs safely without being attacked by flies, I stood in front of Marty unable to speak for a few moments. When my brain reconnected my speech area, I blubbered, "I can't shower down there. It's not right, it's bad, I'm freaked out."Marty had no idea what I was talking about and I got even more flustered because he just looked at me. I blurted out, "Flies, all over the basement, everywhere, I can't be naked down there with all the flies!"
We went back to the basement and Marty opened the window to shoo the flies out. He said it wasn't bad and by the look on his face, I knew he was silently questioning my sanity because of the way I freaked out earlier. I pointed him towards the door and the other window. Marty then understood my panic.
I took my shower with both windows and the door wide open and Marty shooing flies outside.
Where did they come from? We have a cat door so the outside strays can come into the basement and sometimes they leave me a present of a dead bird or mouse. They usually leave such things right out in the open. Marty searched the basement and found nothing, not even an odor of a decaying carcass. Where did all the flies come from?
Sounds like some old black/white cheezy horror movie. Fortunately, not a single fly turned it's head towards me and pleaded, "Help me" in a squeeky voice. That would truly make it perfectly fine for me to freak out.
"Hellllp meeee".
posted by Stephanie @ 7:07 PM
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