However the flies are getting into my house, surely by now they know they're not welcome. All that waving of the limp, lopsided flyswatter should have been a clue. On the other hand, my poor aim might be what's encouraging them. I used to be pretty good with a swatter, but not so much any more. I think I need a new one. It can't be that I've lost my batting eye.
The flies are most of the reason I'm not spending more time reading on the back porch in the late afternoon. It would be perfect out there if not for all the buzzing around my head. Ever since the yard guy was here and got rid of the weeds that were growing over and through the porch boards and knocking on the screen door, it's been tempting to spend more and more time outside. If those nasty little houseflies would leave me alone, I would.
Sometimes I just put up with the flies. Sometimes I take the flyswatter outside with me and hope for the best. And sometimes I'm lucky and they leave me alone. I can never figure out what makes them decide to swarm around me some days and stay away on others. That's true of the flies both inside and outside the house.
I'm not really worried about mosquitoes. Maybe I should be, with a few incidents of West Nile Virus popping up around the county. But I don't think there's enough moisture in my yard to attract the carrier mosquitoes, and I've never really been bothered by them since I moved here. I do get an occasional bee that won't be denied. That'll send me scampering inside faster than anything.
It's not that I don't respect the creatures of nature or value their lives. I wouldn't hurt a flea. Well, maybe a flea, or a fly, or a column of ants. Or anything that stings or bites without provocation. But other than that, I try not to kill anything, even the spider who keeps setting up housekeeping in my shower. Maybe I'm not relocating it far enough away.