If you've been around my blog for a while, you know that I am always immersed in a losing battle with the Virginia stinkbug population, which is multiplying by hoards every 30 seconds or so. Unfortunately, they don't have natural predators here, and they have an armour that protects them. So they are very difficult to kill. I've designed those homemade traps to catch them, but it can't put a dent in our problem. And every three months, I pay exorbitant prices so that Terminex can come out and tell me that there isn't much they can do about them, as we duck from little flying stinkbugs buzzing around overhead.
Last week the Terminex man showed up by surprise, a new fellow who had just relocated from Seattle. Perhaps because he was new, and hadn't entered the usual resignation in the face of stinkbug infestation that is so common, he was much more enthusiastic than anyone I'd seen so far. I told him that the brunt of our issue is in the master bathroom. He went upstairs and was up there for a rather long time - so long I started to wonder what exactly he was doing. Finally, he came back down energized and excited.
"I've found where the stinkbugs are hiding!" he exclaimed.
"Oh really?" I say, wary, wondering how dirty this mystery area could be, and hoping I didn't leave any underwear lying on the floor.
"Yes, under the tub!"
This guy actually opened the doors under our tub and got in there to spray. That's dedication folks! He finished his duties with the usual spray around windows and doors (we don't do any granules because of our chickens) and was on his way.
An hour later, I went upstairs for something and stopped dead in my tracks when I went into the bathroom and saw this:
How many stinkbugs have you flicked today, reader?