Yesterday as I typed, I glanced at the view outside my window only for it to be marred by a cluster of approximately 75 flies congregating on the window like they were giving out free sugar cubes. What the heck was this? My immediate response was wondering if my home had turned into the Amityville Horror house. I can deal with the frequenting of those ghostly images that rise in the fog of the night– BUT THIS had me angry! For those of you that have never seen the fly scene in the movie Amityville Horror I will post the video below, but I am not going to watch it.
Google Google Google.
When in times of need Google is my best friend. Not only does Google sometimes tell me that death is on my doorstep, it is like having a brainiac that never leaves your home and you don’t have to feed them. In several online forums they asked whether there was any leftover food around. Heck, I microwave every Lean Cuisine known to mankind, and there is nothing on my counters, so that’s a no. Then the issue of something “dying between your walls” came up and that sent me into a thither. Squirrels? Raccoons? Well my squirrels are well fed by peanuts every day so they are a lively bunch, and the raccoons have gone to a cooler spot in town for the moment.
People have died here, but it’s never been a crime scene, so that’s out. The little nuisances are called cluster flies and like the other horror film Poltergeist “they really go to the light”. They gather around any sort of bright light much like hippies around a bag of pot at Woodstock. I was told they have a short life span. Right! Google has lied before!
Well I don’t care how long they live– when they perch on my nose they are outta here. No Raid in the house, so I spray them with Febreeze. Don’t laugh– Febreeze is my answer to everything. Of course it only gasses them up a bit, but no one is falling dead to the floor. But now the perfumed spray has fogged up my windows. It’s much too high for me to clean that mess off! Oh well, who cleans around here anyways.
So I try and ignore them. Right. As the light outside dims they begin to hang around the wall light. Actually there is no light– just a sea of blackness. Ignore, Ignore, ignore– I stop typing and go watch television. Not even my favourite show Catfish on MTV can keep my mind from buzzing. They have now gone from the light I turned off to another one I turned on.
I go downstairs with the dog who can sense my frustration. I climb up to the top of the kitchen cupboard to get a museum piece that is gathering dust. The flyswatter. Well, once I hit them they seem to bounce up in the air like a bunch of feathers, and no one is dying. The dog is alarmed and doesn’t want to be in the path of the flyswatter and quickly disappears in the darkness of night. That’s right I turned the light off! I couldn’t stand to see them, so I took the ostrich in the sand approach.
Bedtime comes and the dog and I discuss not leaving the night light on lest we will been covered in flies when we wake up. I awake flie-less but they are now clinging to the window where it all began.
I read that these little suckers play dead and then they “arise” once again. They are supposed to be a dumb lot and will soon disappear. Disappear to where? It’s 7 am an not one of them is packing a bag. Heather Lalonde mentions the words “Amityville Horror” to me once again on Facebook. Okay I’ll bite–I go to one of the movies forum pages.
“Please explain the significance of the flies in the movie.”
They were an “adaptation” in the screenplay from the original book… the amount or numbers of flies you saw in the movie were far in excess of what we experienced in the house… to say the movie was an exaggeration is being kind.
In the house, when we were there… the flies were almost always present in the second floor rear bedroom… we would kill them all and they would yet return and be there the next day or the next time we were in the room.
They would yet return and be there the next day?
%^&&^&- story over- I am off to buy RAID.
Buy Linda Secaspina’s Books— Flashbacks of Little Miss Flash Cadilac– Tilting the Kilt-Vintage Whispers of Carleton Place and 4 others on Amazon or Amazon Canada or Wisteria at 62 Bridge Street in Carleton Place