Or almost. Technically, my subjects will be dead, so that's not vivisection. On the other hand, I'll be directly responsible for their deaths.
I've been threatening it for ages, despite Looby Loo's squeamish reaction to the suggestions. I've caught two wee beasties. They've been in an airtight jar for over two days, climbing over a couple of strands of hair. (It's like a tiny zoo exhibit really.) They've finally expired (two days plus) and I'll be putting 'em on a slide and sticking 'em under Looby Loo's microscope. Since I needed to keep them intact, I couldn't put them out of their misery, and they are immensely hard to squash anyway. So a slow starving and/or asphyxiation was their necessary fate.
I'm quite looking forward to what we'll see.
(I suppose we ought to attempt to catch the odd cat flea, too, next time we've itchy cats.)
All in the name of science, right?
- Peter S Beagle, The Last Unicorn
- Bob Dylan, Chronicles: Volume One
- Thieves' World
- Gamini Salgado, The Elizabethan Underworld
- Ankle socks for Loby Loo in Opal Ladybird
- Gilet for Barbie in scraps of Opal Ladybird
- S199 Introduction
- S199 Surface temperature
- Maths Skills Booklet for Science Short Courses
Got out of my hair:
"Here," she says, pointing at an illustration showing several mites driving cars up and down a person's leg. "This was because I got headlice. Briefly. I think it was something to do with being at college. But I put on all the cream and then I woke up in the middle of the night and I thought, what about those poor creatures that I killed? That was their home."
Oddly, Monday evening, whilst exterminating the putative next generation <i>in ovum</i> and combing the current crawling passengers down the plughole, I did feel rather sorry for them all.
And I clean forgot to save an example of adult and egg to put under the microscope. Oh well, next time.
And we all know there'll be a next time.
No, not the usual little beasties. Ants.
It must be Spring.
Are we sufficiently obsessive to go back and create a memory to group all previous formic postings to match the group of little beastie memories? (The latter we sorted out yesterday.) Do we need a meta-category of "little beasties" as well?
Edit: we were.
Purchased: one electronic head lice comb.
This is, of course, the point at which we discover that these aren't the electronic variety at all but real live flesh and blood!
Electronic head lice, now there's an idea....
Actually, the current not so small object of desire is a theremin (ready made) plus gig bag, plus stand plus practice amp for around £300 lurking on Ebay (that is if we've understood the German correctly).
Is it proof that Spring's here that the annual ant incursions have begun (most seem to be arriving somewhere near the cat bowls and promptly drown themselves in the water-filled one)?
Or is it an indication that's it's bl**dy freezing out there again and the poor things are coming in for the warmth?
Must buy more ant powder.
I do feel rather sorry for them. I know the weather's just this week gone from summer to standard-British-summer and the previous few days of heat had probably spurred them into making their great expansionist move, but outside, even in the wet, would have been a more sensible direction. We may have one potential and unproblematic ants nest, but one's enough. (I felt very much the same about the wasp nest we had several summers ago: the lucky wasps flew in and out of the nest and the house--no problems experienced by either wasps or rest of household--and the unlucky ones left their nest and flew around the house until they died of starvation or exhaustion. We disposed of the corpses. Admittedly, a little care was required if wandering around barefoot. Eventually the wasps died or moved on. At that time, there was no great problem co-habiting. [The invasion of fleas, however, was quite another matter.])
I don't feel guilty about the formic carnage*. Would've done, once. (Wouldn't even kill moths and daddy-long-legses. And that wasn't just because I'm petrified of them.) Makes me wonder, when/if we set off in our own little colony ships what's out in the kitchen ready to swat us. Or feed us kiwi daiquiri jam (that seems to kill 'em off, but they apparently enjoy the process: is too much rum bad for ants?) And how do we know if we're aiming for the kitchen or the back garden?
* Incidentally, not a googlewhack.