So, here's the deal... my house is being rented since I no longer live there (aside of the 5 weeks or so that we come back to visit). This kind of went on while I lived there too... I had house-mates. I'm kind of used to people screwing my stuff up and sometimes outright taking it. (It pisses me off, but mostly I get over it.) The difference is, now I'm not there to okay every little thing people to. This past return to Flagstaff, I was shocked by what our renters had done, in a few different ways. They were moving out at the time, and we only saw them a few days before they were gone completely.
The first thing was very noticeable: they had used whiteboard market on my metal cabinets... and I mean drew a giant tree and other doodles ALL OVER them, completely covering them. I held my piece (peace?), and with the help of some potent chemicals, managed to remove most of the damage after they'd gone, barring some permanent scratches.
The second thing they did was take my favorite beach towel, which I hadn't been able to take with me. They were apparently using this towel, and another large beach towel of mine (more torn up due to an accident with the vacuum, and also bearing a dogfod logo)... yet my pretty towel was just gone the morning they left, and the dogfood one was still there. I've sent inquiries to see if I can get the towel back... it's the most pissed I've been about people taking my things.
The third thing, two points, really, was that they apparently got rid of the removable screens for the screen doors, and since it was the height of summer, they kept the doors standing open, inviting in all the bugs and mice in the area. Now, I can understand dooing this once in a while, but how in all hell did these people put up with the insane number of flies that got into the house?! They were EVERYWHERE!! I've dealt with the children of Mothra in the house before; I've dealt with a crap-ton of spiders. But the flies... We couldn't watch a movie on TV without there being one or two on the screen. Now, it's been said of Arno that he wouldn't hurt a fly. In fact, he would not hurt 12 flies, which he carefully ferried outdoors with a cup and piece of paper. I managed to swat another six from around the lamp (I'm not so forgiving of flies being in my house). The forllowing morning, before we headed to Gallup, we noticed a huge number of flies in one particular window of the house. We counted 14. Seven of them were clustered together at the bottom of the window. No idea why they were there, nor where they went afterward... no fly corpses were left in the window by the time we returned. Maybe because I declared the house a no-fly zone, and they accordingly just left. Here's hoping.
Beedoo! is right. I literally don't hurt a fly. I just don't feel right; it's not like the fly is there with the intent to do me harm. It makes me think: what would I think if I were the fly? Well, probably "Fly fly fly fly fly fly POOP!!" or something, but still, it's a happy and fulfilling life in its own right, and I don't want to unnecessarily end it. We can't all be terrible dragons, you know?
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