And having moved to a house situated practically next door to stables, well, you guessed it:
We were asking, begging, for trouble.
My wrath is a hand-held electric bug zapper that lets the little bastards sizzle, not splat.
And when I feel especially murderous, I'll give them another jolt of electricity, and then another one.
Just to be sure that the miserable creature has gone on to the Other Side.
Each evening is spent awaiting their kamikaze attacks.
And as soon as I've fried one's buzzy behind, another will appear to torture me.
It never ends.
And so, dear reader, we begin our Monday.
Again.
.
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