Comments: The Story of Lawn Fork (PART 1)

But it wouldn't be roaches in the ivy...it would be RATS. Or so I've heard. Maybe it's both?

Posted by Beth at January 6, 2009 1:21 PM

Gee, thanks, Beth! ;) Like it wasn't bad enough imagining ROACHY ivy, now I have to imagine RATTY ivy, too.

We have this creepy, creeping plant here in San Diego. It's sort of somewhere between a normal, leafy plant, and a cactus. The leaves are THICK and SQUOOSHY. It grows everywhere -- the hill behind our apartment is covered with it. I imagine it's sort of the SoCal version of kudzu. I am convinced that black widow spiders, scorpions and tarantulas carpet the earth beneath it, and are merely waiting for me to set a foot wrong before they scuttle up my leg and bite me. Gah.

I kill plants, too, by the way. Not deliberately, but they die under my care.

Posted by Aimee at January 6, 2009 2:05 PM

I can't even begin to figure out how to type the reaction I'm having to this post...

How do you express in type snorting so hard people are looking at you, snickering at the same time, sheer confusion at what appears to be a permanently in-orbit mental illness number, and getting the squicks from the image of a roach running up my leg?

Posted by Beth R at January 6, 2009 2:39 PM

Great. Now I'm picturing roaches in pink socks.

(But seriously. Roaches OUTside? Slap me for a Yankee. Suddenly all this snow doesn't look so bad.)

Posted by rams at January 6, 2009 8:32 PM

I feel toward house animals the way you feel toward house plants. I like them properly contained in the outside parts of the earth.

I am quite sure that they have fleas, ticks, dander, dust and remnants of feces on them and I don't like them touching me much, and definitely not getting anywhere near my pillow.

I paid for room and board with this family when I was first in university and they would open my room door and let their damn long haired black cat sit on my bed because "He likes to look out the window from there."

I moved out by January.

Posted by carrien (she laughs at the days) at January 6, 2009 10:51 PM

I'm so arachnophobic I got nightmares from watching "Charlotte's Web". And you have a big ol' honkin' picture of a spider there.

Durn it, woman, are you trying to kill me?

I too slaughter every plant in the house. Fortunately, the current cats view plants as cat salad, so we can't have any. Whew.

And we live on the western side of the Cascades, where there are NO ROACHES at all. I am happy here.

Love love LOVE the "Aliens" reference, though!

Posted by Fran at January 6, 2009 11:35 PM

I heard that there are rats in the ivy, too. Which is worse, rats or roaches?

Roaches give me the jibblies.

Posted by nik at January 7, 2009 3:10 AM

I don't mind plants per se, so long as they're outdoors (it's more of a laziness factor with me). But I've learned not to stay still and hang out IN the plants for any length of time. Ever since a picnic with my brother and a young nephew, when we spotted about 4 ticks making their creepy, crawly way across the picnic blanket straight for the juicy, tender two-year-old!

Posted by Brigitte at January 7, 2009 9:36 AM

So how does Lawn Fork work? Surely it was touched by plants galore, not to mention other possibilities. Admittedly, I have a lawn spoon of my own and I'm rather fond of it, despite its questionable background. It has more personality than the others.

Posted by Holly at January 7, 2009 12:00 PM

Well,I'm a plant biologist by profession, so I LOVE plants. But not kudzu or ivy (both invasive alien creepers!). And where I come from, ivy has rats and SNAILS. But not roaches.

I wonder if the thick So-Cal ground cover described is ice plant? Also NOT FROM HERE. It's from S. Africa. I have no objection to well-behaved transplants from other places, but ones that are introduced and then SLAUGHTER ALL THE NATIVES, leaving no room for any new immigrants either, are not so good. I may feel a metaphor coming on, but will restrain myself.

Also, I am not a naturalist, and do NOT care for spiders.

Posted by Diane (TT) at January 7, 2009 7:30 PM

Your story has triggered me to horrify you with my COCKROACH story. (Ick ick ick ick.) Several years ago, when first-run episodes of the "X-Files" tv show were still coming on every Friday night, I sat down to watch my weekly installment. "X Files" was usually appropriately creepy-scary, so I turned off all of the lights in the room, brushed my long hair back out of my face, and curled up on the sofa to watch. Partway through the episode, when some other-worldly gucky monster was undoubtedly chasing Mulder and Scully through the dark dark woods (of Washington, DC?), I felt a tickling on my arm that I thought was my hair. It kept tickling, though, and moved UP my bare arm to my shoulder. When I looked down, I was eyeball-to-compound-eyeball with the BIGGEST DAMN COCKROACH I have ever seen. I have since learned that they are also called "Waterbugs" and "Palmetto Bugs," but what I called it at that time was "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" As I flicked frantically at the GIGANTIC MONSTER, I heard pounding footsteps; my husband burst into the room, white-faced and holding a .45 caliber handgun in a combat stance. "WHERE? WHERE?" he demanded, looking to see where my attacker had fled to. He looked at me like I was completely unhinged when I shrieked, "UNDER THE COUCH!!" since the space underneath the sofa was insufficient for the hulking human assassin he was certain had been moments from ending my life. A moment's explanation convinced him to PUT DOWN THE GUN, and he grabbed the most convenient tools for dispatching large insects, which happened to be...tools. With a hammer in one hand and pliers in the other, he lifted the couch, and that DAMNED BIG BUG scuttled across the floor (toward my bare feet, naturally). WHAP! went the hammer. "EEEEW!!" went me. Unfortunately, whoever had laid the carpet in this particular room had been VERY generous with the PADDING, so, when he lifted the hammer, the Creature, unharmed, took off like a racehorse for yet another corner of the room.

I was, even at that time, aware that a bug that size would make a loud CRUNCH when offed--IG IG IG IG--so I was standing in one corner of the room, dancing to decrease the likelihood of large MUTANT BUGS running up my legs, with my fingers in my ears, saying loudly, "LA LA LA LA!!" I had also closed my eyes by this point, not wanting to see the BUG GUTS that were inevitable at some point in this catastrophe. Over my loud "LA"-ing, I heard my husband say, "Okay, okay, I got him." Cautiously I opened one eye.

Since the hammer had proven ineffective, my loving spouse had grabbed the Creature with the PLIERS, and was holding it approximately four inches from my nose, its crinky legs waving at me.

The X-Files has nothing on my house.

Later, I learned in the most shocking manner possible that these BIG DAMN BUGS also FLY, albeit amateurishly and not always AWAY from the person who is attempting to flatten them with a flip-flop, but that is a different story altogether.

Posted by Jennifer at January 9, 2009 2:56 PM