Funny how our minds work, something happens during the day, many times something very minor, and BAM, our memory banks are flooded. Happened here this AM.
My activity was the killing of one very small, almost minuscular bug. I mean, he was just a wisp. And, then he was no more. Sorry bug, but you are NOT welcome in my kitchen!
My next thought was of my grandmother Bowen and how she killed fleas. I could actually see her in my mind’s eye digging fleas off the family cat and taking her nail, to well, snap that nasty flea in two. She was relentless and she never flinched. Actually, I believe she took some delight in breaking them in half! She would chase those fleas around on the cat’s body, never giving up the chase till she got them and snap, you had to hear the snap, she informed me, or they would not be dead, as fleas are notoriously tough.
Then, my thought processes wandered around to how she lived in a different time, well before the Orkin man, eh?? I wondered, did they even have flea powder available from the local veterinarian?? Hmmm, something else to google sometime, the development of flea powder.
Anyway, in my little trip down memory lane, I guess I figured, if they did not have the flea powder or the Orkin man, then gramma B’s method of flea control was all she knew. May have been all she knew, but, she did it well! Snap!
I still don’t know why my mind jumped from my little wisp of a dead bug to gramma B’s snapping of fleas.
I am not even sure why I wrote this blog. Snapping fleas, ewwwwwwwwwwwwww!
Memory triggers, strange things, eh??
*Next memory trigger: Aunt Geneva who hated thistles with a passion, and she passed that hatred on to me. And believe me, they are harder to kill than those fleas ever were.