Buggin'

Since I'm on the topic of bugs....and porch sittin'. Hubby Guy and I have been enjoying a new-found sport.

Stink bugs are drawn to one particular screen on the porch. They all seem to end up there. They walk back and forth over and over again.

Hubby Guy had the idea that we should paint little numbers on them with a Sharpie or a paint marker and he could call the races like a baseball announcer. Doesn't that sound entertaining?

On Bug Nostalgia

When Hubby Guy and I were dating we used to sit around for literally hours and talk about stuff.  By the time we got married I felt like I had surely heard all of the best stories. Well, lately we've been spending a good bit of time chillin' on the porch. As is our custom, we sit around and talk about stuff. Well the other day I heard a new story!!

The above little trike ridin' hot shot is my Hubby Guy when he was little. By all accounts he was your classic, all-american, cowboys and indians, baseball playin', up-to-no-good boy. For the record, he hasn't strayed too far from that. :)  Anyway...

We were talking about this summer's forecasted cicada swarm. I was unaware that cicadas swarm every 17 years. Hubby Guy apparently knows full well. I found out that Hubby Guy's father hates cicadas. It remains unclear why exactly he hates them. So... one summer when Hubby Guy was 9 or 10 his father agreed to pay him a penny or nickel per carcass for him to hunt them down and end their little lives with his BB gun. All day while his dad was at work he would do his thing and line up their little carcasses on the sidewalk. When his dad got home he would pay up. 

Before you get all weird about him hunting bugs......

they are pretty big and gross..... and he was a kid.......who really needed money for bubble gum and soda.  

For whatever reason, picturing what that must've looked like cracks me up. 

To this day I still love the sound of cicadas. My grandmother had a grove of trees behind her house. In the summer it always sounded like there were thousands out there. In the evening we would would sit outside and listen to them sing. In the daytime, we would go around and pick abandoned shells off of the trees and then count them. Those were good times.

Hopefully this year's swarm will stay away from Hubby Guy's dad and some will come here to Harrisonburg and sing to me.