Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Kafka's Locust

If you've ever heard a chorus of locusts (would the plural be locii?), their deafening sound ringing through the air, then you already know that they are the Ethel Mermans of the bug world, in addition to plaguing Egyptians and Mormons. No, wait, I think it was grasshoppers that plagued the Mormons. I'll ask the next missionary duet that rings my doorbell at Iron Acres.

There are plenty of locusts in Texas. This is one Principessa found recently on one of our jaunts to a local herb garden. Sadly, he/she had succumbed to the heat. (Have I told you it's hot in Texas?)

bugs mlc wine herb gard locust

When I was a little girl growing up in the big city and dreaming of country life, I would often discover the "shells" of a matured locust. We would have fun grossing out younger siblings (sorry, iPodite) by perching the fragile, but solid, shed skins on our noses. (Actually, I think iPodite took part in this as well, so I am retracting that apology.)

I found two "shells" a few days ago in the wilds of Washington County and imagined a conversation between them with the help of some movie dialogue you might recognize.

Just humor me, will ya? Our vacation's almost up, and there's not much else to do to pass the time here in the wilds of Washington County. We've done all we characteristically do each year--eaten too much Blue Bell Ice Cream and barbecue (the local delicacies), played too many hands of Phase 10 (my Dear Husband's sister's favorite game), and visited every relation in the county we can think of.


Of course, the local library display of graphic novels including one of Kafka's Metamorphosis had nothing to do with this, nothing at all. Nothing...at...all...


"As God is my witness, as God is my witness they're not going to lick me. I'm going to live through this and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again. No, nor any of my folk. If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill. As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again!"


"Rhett, Rhett! Rhett, Rhett... Rhett, if you go, where shall I go? What shall I do?"


"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a dung beetle."