Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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got that wrong
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Like my brownhouse:
   towards the end of the flea infestation
Monday, September 12 2016
The recent flea infestation (which became acute around the time we went on our Adirondack vacation) has only recently abated, and then not completely. The fleas have survived two foggings in the laboratory, a fogging in the upstairs bedroom, and a fogging in the main basement guestroom. They've also survived flea collars on the dogs, and Frontline on all the cats. The Frontline has worked varying amounts. It's been most effective on Clarence and Oscar ("the bread boys"), who are frequently in the house and have no evidence of fleas on them). Julius (aka "Stripey") also shows no evidence of fleas, but he rarely comes into the house. It doesn't seem to have worked very well on Celeste (aka "the Baby") or Sylvia, the latter of whom had a number of engorged fleas on her the other day. Since then, I've been combing her repeatedly and mechanically killing any I find. I also kill the occasional fleas that land on my legs, vacuuming the carpet immediately when they get away. It's been easy to sense their presence in the warm weather, since their first landing site is on my shins, which are covered with long, sensitive hairs. Lately, though, the mornings have been cool enough to cause me to wear socks, which allows them to land on me undetected and then (possibly) to jump to some place higher. Fortunately, the number of fleas I'm finding is beginning to drop dramatically. At this point I'm detecting one on my leg less frequently than every two hours; it used to be more like one every five or ten minutes.
Killing fleas mechanically (by catching and crushing them with a persistent rolling motion between thumb and forefinger or by vacuuming them up) is an important component to any eradication program, since evolving resistance to the various pesticides is a real phenomenon, one that makes sense but which we're steered to forget by such places as the Creation Museum (which the Smithsonian's National History Museum will become once Donald J. Trump becomes President-for-Life of the Galaxy). Fleas have already evolved considerable resistance to mechanical destruction, but with a little persistence they can be crushed (or ripped into two pieces).


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