Last year, we suffered a scourge of wasps. This year, the infestation appears to be flies.
Not the big, fat black flies that herald the presence of Beelzebub, but the smaller, more obnoxious kind. And they brought their underage cousins, the fruit flies, to the party. It's like Satan Lite around here.
I've no idea where they're coming from, if it's just a seasonal thing or what. Having a toddler who likes to hide his snacks probably doesn't help, but the dog is pretty on top of that situation, so I'm sure it's not just us. But you can't exactly ask around about these things, because inquiring as to whether your neighbours are also suffering from these tiny winged demons is tantamount to admitting that you're the worlds worst housekeeper. Which I am. But I have a cleaning service for that.
(I apparently don't feel the same kind of shame about admitting these things to you guys, though. You all seem incapable of judging me. Some days, I thoroughly expect to be judged, and then you're all supportive and "Oh, NO, honey, EVERYBODY has gross kitchen sinks and mice and drinks too much wine. You're fine." I kind of wonder if you're just speaking gently to me like you would someone who was a little simple, or standing on a window ledge or holding a knife to a kittens throat.)
Anyway. We have those really classy sticky strips hanging everywhere, but mostly I'm just waiting it out. Because in a few weeks, the temperature will plummet and nothing but the crazy and the well-insulated will survive.
It's pretty much the only good thing about living here in the winter.