Would you know? Could you tell?
This tranquil little craftsman style bungalow in rural Minnesota has been the site of an epic battle of man (or in this case, woman) versus invasive insect.
And here is one of the collaborating beasts. Yes my friends, we had fleas.
I have been led to the conclusion that these nasty bits of pestilence are becoming immune to the chemicals commonly used to curb their prolific breeding ways. I could not get rid of them, which allowed those busy females to lay their twenty-five eggs per day. Yes indeed, I know how many eggs a female flea lays in a day. I know how long it takes for the eggs to hatch and the larvae to mature into a flea. I know more about fleas than I care to.
In the end, I have gained the upper hand by steam cleaning every surface in the house, meticulous vacuuming, fogging, constant washing of bedding and clothing. Twice daily showers and frequent bathing of dogs and poor Margaret the Cat. Thrice daily combing with a flea comb and using flea collars. Spot on treatment did not work. Manual labor has been my only choice and eventual salvation from the virulent bloodsucking vermin.
So my friends, this is why I have been absent. I am still in the midst of this, I have my office left to steam clean, I'm still capturing a few eggs and immature fleas in the comb and I plan to fog one more time. But I feel I am just about able to plant my flag of victory.
I fought the flea. I believe I have won. Now to have a long talk with Howard and Grace about sticking their noses into places they do not belong.