Our Dirty Little Secret

Folks, It's hot in Austin. And dry, very dry. In fact, it's so dry that that Lake Travis has reached new lows that now include the revealing of old cars that were surely part of mysterious crimes and drunken nights 20 years ago. It's so hot and dry that we're all on water restrictions. These things are to be taken seriously, people. I've heard of the water police coming by and handing out $500 tickets for auto-sprinklers spraying lush yards on off-days. It's so hot and dry that the "crap" grass that we've been trying to kill so that the ever-thirsty St. Augustine would grow all over the yard has finally died on it's own. So has the St. Augustine, unfortunately. It's hot and dry, y'all.


It's so hot and dry, that the roaches are coming in. That, my friends, is just the beginning of our dirty little secret.


When we moved in here 4+ years ago, we decided to have quarterly pest control. Though I do not like the idea of toxic chemicals surrounding my house, the alternative was worse to me. The prior residents of this here house weren't bothered much by rodents, or smoke or dingy curtains or florescent lights either, but that's a different story. When we moved in, there were a few bugs more than I could handle. So, the quarterly pest control. We paid for pest control for a year, felt like it worked, and decided to stop forking out hard-earned cash for bug killer. This sort of scares me as we ceased treatment over 3 years ago, but the toxins seems to still be working on the little buggers.


Our house has become a roach graveyard.


Their little bodies can be found every morning around the house. Okay, that's an exaggeration, but we have found at least six in the past month or so.


I, being of the easily grossed-out nature, do not like picking up roach carcasses. KP, being annoyed at my inability to pick up a dead little bug, has decided to leave them where they lie. This is quite unpleasant for me. I have (don't tell KP) begun picking them up, either with a full roll of paper towels secured tightly around my hand or with the vacuum. But there's one that I am refusing to touch. It's on his side of the bathroom, beneath his vanity. We're going on day 3.

Okay, that's disgusting. I am going to arm myself with the vacuum right now and suck up KP's new best friend (and whatever guts he let out before he died). And then I might bleach the area. Hey, we're into toxins, remember...they at least kill the roaches before they come in our house to croak.