14 The Beauty of Being Old

At the coffee table this morning, the discourse was about the newest (non-paying) tenants at the Lodge. Apparently, they slither around our suites in the dead of night. If a light is flicked on, these miniature invaders either cringe in horror, or hightail it out of there to gosh-knows-where.

This morning when I saw hundreds?!! thousands…!!?? Well, maybe six or seven squirming earwigs clustered around a stray onion skin that lay on the kitchen counter, I cringed in horror, and hightailed it in the direction of my husband. All but one of the creatures leapt to the floor and instantly disappeared.

As I squished the tawdry one, I berated my husband for leaving that bit of onion skin behind from his midnight sandwich.. But then who knew earwigs eat onions?

Okay the war is on! Previously the only earwigs we’ve seen have been in the bathroom. I had set a trap for them with one cup of water laced with a tablespoon each of olive oil and soya sauce. No dead bodies were visible the next day.

A fellow tenant said she had collected dozens that had drowned in a còntainer using only oil as bait. (That was outside in her potted plants)

I shall set up a similar trap this evening, but with a sliver of onion on top!