4 Feb 2017

And Then, A Fly...

I’m still having connectivity problems by the way - and I also continue to have problems latching onto the Interweb. My ‘provider’ has assured me they’ll be round to sort me out early March. The term they used, ‘to sort you out’. may suggest I should’ve been a little less confrontational on the phone than I was. We’ll see.

Anyhoo, about my fly. I entered the kitchen the other morning and saw a large fly, a bluebottle, standing on the window looking out wistfully. He was defiantly of an age as he just hopped into the palm of my hand when offered and thus was transported to the backdoor from where I let him fly. Off he went with an almost audible, “Wahooooo”.

Strangely, when I went back to the kitchen sometime later, guess wot? There was a big, ageing bluebottle looking out the window. I repeated the above and off he went.

Later, it all repeated again. This got me thinking. Do these fellows find a warm safe space come autumn and hibernate and crawl back out this time of year or are they waking up outside and starting to prowl? Was it three flies or one fly thrice times?

Isn’t it amazing how spotting a simple fly on the window can send you off on a whole new hobby in endiol... emptam... intimol... finding out stuff about insects? Oh, and grammar; fly – fly’s – flies – and on and on.

Quote;  George Jean Nathan

“An optimist is a fellow who believes a housefly is looking for a way to get out.”


Caratacus said...

I am reminded of a story related by Mike Harding about a dog which joined his family when he were but a lad. It was only a puppy and the puir wee soul decided that the landing represented that place the rest of us refer to as the lavatory and would divest itself unsparingly whenever the need arose. Harding senior would shout and swear, pick up the puppy, rub its nose in the 'end product', as it were, and throw the poor pup down the stairs. This went on for a week or so until one day the pup hauled itself painfully up the stairs, crutch under one arm, patch across one eye and a definite list to starboard; he crapped mightily on the landing once more, rubbed his own nose in it and then threw himself down the stairs ... he thought it was a new trick he'd learnt.

Could it be that the bluebottle is training you?

Mac said...

Love it! Front and centre when I get a good connection. Hope you don't mind.