First Termites, Now WORMS!!

Today is a beautiful day. I decided to sunbathe on the verandah and went to look for an old bikini I'd left in the chest of drawers in the guest room. This particular drawer serves as a catch-all for the random stuff I leave here in Rio - photos, clothes, wall hangings yet to be hung, shopping bags. I found the bikini at the back of the drawer and noticed some strange mahogany powder on the fabric. If any of you have lived in humid, warm climates you'll know that any kind of powdery sawdust is a *very bad sign*. Usually means termites, but there are several other pests that will leave similar trails. I shook out the bikini and went digging in the drawer to see what was going on.

I pulled out a large tapestry my mom and I bought at the Indian import store just down the hill and noticed that the fabric on the back was full of holes. Bringing the tapestry closer to my face for a more thorough examination, I realized that there were things moving about in the holes. Small, maggoty, white worms to be exact. And, occasionally, some miniscule brown beetles called brocas that have been doing a similar number on the wicker chairs in the kitchen. The whole tapestry was literally crawling with nasty, nasty nastiness!!!

I hauled the tapestry and then the remaining contents of the drawer out to the verandah. Direct sunlight, I figured, would definitely help the situation. Beth came up to see what was going on and freaked out when she saw the worms. We both got bad cases of the squirmy itch. You know, like when you see a bunch of ants and feel like they are crawling all over your legs, only worse because I felt like I had worms all over my scalp and brocas on my back and had to find a solution at the same time.

I never thought a suitcase full of 30% DEET repellent would come in so handy. I ran to my room and pulled out a family-size aerosol can, then went to town on the maggoty bastards. I soaked the entire tapestry in repellent, giving extra sprays anywhere my eye caught the slightest bit of motion. After a good coughing bout from the DEET, I stood back and admired my work. Little curled-up worm carcasses littered the tapestry and verandah floor. Ha! Don't mess with a woman armed with aerosol-propelled carcinogens! I grabbed the corners of the tapestry and gave it a good shake, causing more larvae to fall onto the tile.

Unfortunately, my sense of satisfaction was short-lived. I decided there was NO WAY IN HELL I was going to sunbathe amidst a sea of dead worms and chemical residue. Instead, I'm going to spend my afternoon finding mothballs (the maggoty things were likely moth larvae) and running other errands for the house.

There is a sense of never-ending frustration associated with this house that has the capacity to stress me out like no other. Even more than the ABF moving truck. Even more than my stupid cancelled reservation on South African Airways. The stress that comes with the casa rosa is the worst kind possible - low key, omnipresent, slowly eating away at your sanity until you throw your hands up in the air and yell at nothing and everything at once.

Sometimes I really hate being a homeowner.