FLY HUNTING?

They make 'em big in San Francisco.  That is not the "thought" for today.  It is rather concerning the task of swatting flies when you discover that there are too many of them in your house.  I was standing in the kitchen and there were altogether too many flies active for my taste.  So I reached out and took up the fly swatter and decided that I was going to wage war on them.  You all know what happened.  I no sooner had my weapon of choice ready to go when the flies all disappeared. So I decided to stand perfectly still in a position that I figured would fool them into coming back and landing in the line of fire.  I was standing by the kitchen sink, right next to the white stove.  I just knew that there would be some action soon.  Sure enough.  One landed right in front of me.  I swung, but I made the mistake of not swinging too hard so as not to squish the thing and cause a small puddle of blood and guts at the scene of the deed.  So, of course, the perp got away.  I had to change tactics.  There had to be a way.  Suddenly I got creative.  I got a paper towel, wet it somewhat and held it in my non-dominant hand.  You know, the one without the weapon.  Then, I resumed my position, ready to blast away and get it done with shock & awe and just wipe the results clean before doing the following one.  Then, of a sudden, one came into view, just over the sink.  It made the mistake of making one or two turns just over the basin.  I swung at it while it was in full aerobatic arrogance and BAM, got 'im.  Maybe it was a her, but all's fair in love and war.  Down into the basin.  Feet in the air, spasmic.  Turn the water on, click the garbage disposal unit on, swoosh, gone.  Yay.  Shut it all down and wait for the next one.  No sooner do I take my position, right arm cocked with my elbow bent at the correct angle when a brazen creature lands on the kitchen table off to my left.  I whirl around and in one smooth, swift action bring the weapon down on the invader and SSppaaalaat!
UGH!  EEEWWWe!  Gross!  Quick, wipe, wipe, squeeze a little bit.  Ahhh!  Clean.  Throw it away.  get another wet paper towel.  Got it.  Position.  Hey, where'd they all go?  I know that there are more of them.  Maybe if I put a dab of maple syrup out there that will help.  HHmmm.  That won't work,  The Voice from the Kitchen would raise Hell and put a prop under it if she ever found out.  "Do you know how much that costs?"  The sad part is I do know how much it costs and I doubt that it is worth the couple of flies that it would nab.  Then again, I could miss, too.  So, I just put out a used banana peel.  It worked.  I got two more.  I somehow knew that flies aren't really as smart as they try to make it look.  In order to make this story a little bit shorter, I have to say that I did get 9 or 10 and I am quite sure that there were none left after that.  Job well done.  No prisoners.  I feel like a Spanish Conquistador.  All told, I had a good time for about 20 minutes.  I'm glad that it doesn't happen too often, but for once, it sure as shooting was more fun than watching the San Diego Chargers.
Pretty gross thought, right?
620 words on fly hunting.  That's because I have not the slightest idea about fly fishing!

W-A-Y TOO MUCH TIME ON MY HANDS HOW?? TIME FLIES !!

By the way.  I somehow touched the wrong button with my senseless fingers and caused the underlines that you see here.  I do not know how to get rid of them, and I do not have enough time to investigate the matter further.  So this clownish disclaimer will have to suffice, for now.  Hopefully, it won't happen tomorrow.
As to the title, it comes froom a comment made by Anna May.  You can see it at the bottom of yesterday's post.  Actually, the one before this one.  So, I respond...
Oh, thank you for saying that.  I wondered where all the time had gone.  The sweet kindness of Anna May has made it so clear, all of a sudden.  It is right here, in my hands, right where it belongs.  I mean, I keep looking at the clock and it keeps telling me that there just isn't enough time left on ITS hands to share some with me. That really burns me up because I thought thatclocks were invented to give us the time.  When that didn't work I turned to the calendar, and that was even worse.  I have a calendar on my computer that really has time down to a science.  It has the date and the hour and the minute, right there clutched closely to its cold hearted breast.  Do you think that I get to dip into that reserve? Mmmm?   HAH!  No way.

So now, here I am with time on my hands but NO time on the clock because the flies have it.  No time on the calendar either because it is all too week.  (Grrooaaannnn!)

The one think I think about is the saying  that we all have the same 24 hours in every day.  Ever hear that one?   I disagree.  I know that mine are shorter than those that I observe with other people.  I know it because I see them walking around the park like time has stood still.  They are just there making sure  that they capture all the droppings of their Dachshund in their little plastic bag.  I know this because I see it outside my window while I am busting a gut working for the success of the owner of the transportation company that pays me.  Hey, if their time were as short as mine, they wouldn't have the long hours to follow a long dog along a long path with time added for collecting excrement that the dog takes the time to leave behind every now and then.  Now tell me, that has to be "stretch time."
So, see.  The time that people have from the clock or the calendar is a lot longer than the time I have on my hands because neither the clock nor the calendar is taking care of me.  If I had the friendship of the clock and the calendar I could  be building model airplanes for fun instead of working for a living with this short time business.
Finally, I leave you with this silly thought: "Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana."


HEY, GOT TIME ON YOUR HANDS?  VISIT MY FISH POND.  IT'S ALL THE WAY TO THE BOTTOM OF THE SCREEN.  PLAY WITH THE FISH BY PASSING YOUR MOUSE OVER THE FISH "POND"  CLICK YOUR MOUSE TO LEAVE THEM SOME "FOOD"