Monday, November 22, 2010
Wildlife No 11
It's been a long, long while since I felt the need to write about my wildlife experiences in Australia. Maybe it's because I've got used to these encounters (although I absolutely promise you, I will never, ever get used to this). But every now and then I have a moment.
Back in my student days I was lucky enough to flat with two of my oldest and dearest friends. We had a terrace house with an outside loo, and a Hoovermatic washing machine. The bathroom still brings me out in a cold sweat. It was a dark enclosed "wardrobe" with no natural light and the grottiest shower you could imagine.
(warning; the next image may cause distress or nausea to readers. It will to me as I write it).
We were three girls with long hair and questionable cleaning habits. As our uni exams crept closer, we let ourselves and our flat get run down. To the point that there was so much freaking hair clugged in the plug hole, it couldn't drain. So if you wanted a shower, you had to (gulp) step into the COLD, OLD, MURKEY, HAIRY water (in the dark windowless wardrobe/shower). Taking matters into our own hands we resorted to showering at our boyfriends flats instead.
One of the girls boyfriends, long after we shifted back to the sanctity and cleaniless of our parents homes after exams, actually cleaned it out. Legend has it he found a hair monster the size of a rat.
I'm sorry, that was unnecessary.
Actually where was I going with this apart from a compulsive, sado-masochistic need to re-hash that story?
Becs, one of my flatmates (and one of my oldest and dearest BFFs), was lucky enough to get the downstairs bedroom with the bright purple carpet (ok, to give some persepctive, our rent was all of $90 total per week, so we're not talking designer digs here (although I'm sure you worked that out from the bathroom imagery I created). And one of the "special" features of her room was each morning, a crosscross maze of silvery slug trails would adorn the purple carpets. Poor Becs had slugs.
Some people have spider issues, I have slimey creature issues - slugs, snails, anything squishy and slimey that leaves trails. That's my albatross I carry with me through life.
So this morning, I came downstairs to find silvery trails on the carpet. I stopped in my tracks for there in all his grey/black slimey grossness was a massive fat slug. Inside my house. Mere centimetres away from where I stood. I blasted it with flyspray and covered it with a plastic container (to stop it's quick getaway, right?), thinking to myself, I'll vacuum it up later once it's dried up (knowing that plastic container on the middle of my floor may be a feature for the next few weeks waiting for that to happen.) But there is merit in having an insect loving son.
Smith called out to me "I found a slug Mum", to my horror it was no longer under the plastic container.
"What did you do with it buddy?",
"I put in the loo",
"What with? Your HANDS?",
"I used loo paper mum" (d'ur!)
I owe my 4 year old big time!
Sorry about the picture folks. And the shower story.