So spiders in my shower, bed, floor, food...yes food, I can deal with...giant centipedes crawling up my bathroom wall, and hanging out in my sink, no big deal. BUT a beetle chillin in my pants, correction: wriggling around in my UNDERWEAR, well folks that is where I draw the line. THERE IS A LINE, you cross it you die, a good rule for life too ladies.
So, the scene is bright, HOT, I mean sweltering: my eyes are swimming in a waterfall of sweat cascading from my lashes, and we are picking berries. We started our day at 5am, which means I started my day at 4am because of animal chores. Why 5? To beat the heat, and beetles who tend to be more active and ass holey when the sun comes out. We pick blueberries for about 3 hours, and move onto raspberries and as we are picking I reach out and get one that has been infested with ants, these angry ants upset that I disturbed their home take up residence on me. Great, I shake them off no problem and continue on with the picking. And then I feel a strange kind of something moving in my pants...in my underwear which honestly, to be frank when it is a billion degrees outside every inch of you is soaked in sweat so I thought maybe the sweaty underwear was just rubbing weird with the sweaty pants, also I didn't want to ahem, be indecent.
A few minutes pass and the feeling does not.
Ok, well I have already been pretty un lady like out here in the field so fuck it, I discretly pull aside the waste band of my pants and don't see anything...then I check the band of my underwear and there he is, the little devil struggling in the string of my underwear. You bastard. Didn't even take me out on a proper date, not even an offer of dinner. WHO DO THESE BEETLES THINK THEY ARE?!? What is this country coming to? Obama.
So I killed him, and as his body squished between my fingers I thanked God that this was my last day here on the farm. 9 hrs of straight picking, sweating, and beetle swearing, coupled with two hours of picking leaves off of basil and I was ready to leave...I did enjoy my time there. Really and truly, and I am sincerly grateful for the opprotunity and the woman who ran the farm, I mean she could have been an insane organic nudist farming woman, or worse a SUPER christian... but, she wasn't. Everyone was incredible, and lovely...except for those fuckin beetles, even the spiders had the decency to be in plain sight, an not try any funny buisness when I went after them with a shoe.
Well, I'll post a little reflective sandwich later, after the anger of the beetle incident has passed but until then...
-Spinach and Cheddar on Sesame