THE BEAUTY OF OLD AGE When you get past your 80th birthday, you begin to appreciate the tiny differences between insects. After all they are a part of this wonderful world we call Earth and some are quite helpful. In my younger years, I would swat, spray or squish every bug that entered my domain. I am older now and more kindhearted. (Sometimes)

In recent years I am inclined to peer closely at the bodies of dead insects that I sweep or pick up from the floor. Too often they turn out to be tiny pieces of fabric, dust or long-lost objects.

2025 has to be the year of the earwig. I have no idea how they get in, but every second day or so, one of these creepy crawlers ends up in our bathroom. I have plugged every possible entry way including lining the heat vent with a cloth and placing a large can of tomatoes over the shower drainage receptacle.

The other day one somehow managed to circumvent the obstacle, put the can back in place, and die of exhaustion on the shower floor. To my less than 20-20 eyesight it appeared to be different from those with the prong sticking straight up from the body. I remembered the pronged ones from our last earwig infestation a number of years ago. Like some kind of horror fantasy movie, the pronged creatures did not die easily, even when I stomped on them several times .

But this new creature I found had gigantic feelers sticking out, ugly, looking as if it would bite if it was alive. Thankfully it was not. Later I found out that I was looking at the wrong end. The front end was the one with the prong on top and the rear end had the feelers.

Even so I am a bit freaked out by these strange (harmless, Google tells me) creatures.

This morning a bug skittered across the bathroom floor. I was in my bare feet and almost leaped up on the toilet. (As if I could do that!)

Turned out it was just a spider. I was so greatful that I wished him well as he skittered on his way.