Cicadas Part Deux

Cicadas on our house's foundation

The cicadas have now reached a new level of repulsiveness -- not only do their outgrown shells and living bodies litter the ground, the bugs fly slowly and clumsily through the air and their mating song overpowers the noise of air conditioners and rings through the summer nights and hot afternoons. 

The many squirrels in our subdivision think they're in heaven -- fat, juicy cicadas everywhere! Here's a short video of a squirrel munching on one in our front yard. Listen to the roar in the background -- cicadas. At least the squirrels and birds like them!

A Month of Cicadas

We knew they were coming -- they do every 13 years -- but somehow we hoped they wouldn't come here. No such luck.  The periodic cicadas are back with a vengeance. Not to be confused with regular cicadas that sing in the trees each summer, periodic cicadas are special insects -- 100 times more dense and 1000 times more obnoxious.

Our ramp is particularly appealing

My first encounter with these bugs (which can't survive the Iowa cold) was back in the spring of 1998 when Chelsea and I were out planting flowers in the front yard. Chelsea asked me what made the  2-inch holes in the ground. I didn't know then, but according to this article, the holes were dug by nymph cicadas that had been underground for 13 years, before emerging from the ground to shed their skins, mate and lay eggs.

The cicadas did indeed come up from below and a few weeks later, the big old pine tree in our front yard was writhing with layers of the inch-long bugs.  Ron took a shovel and scraped off the rancid-smelling insects, then stowed them in black trash bags.

Tree captured by cicadas

I had conveniently forgotten about the cicadas until this week, when I noticed that the robins were eating something off the ground and seemed inexplicably happy. The reason: they were feasting on cicadas. When Chelsea got home from work that day she ran inside, slammed the door and screamed  "Cicadas are everywhere!"

She wasn't exaggerating: these ugly bugs have crawled up tree trunks, cover house foundations, and seem partial to our wooden ramp and the deck. Everything in our subdivision is speckled with live cicadas or their skins.

So far the pine tree hasn't proven overly attractive to the bugs, so I'm hopeful we won't have a return to the horror movie of 13 years ago. It only takes a month or them to complete the cycle of mating and laying eggs, but what a month!

Blue Eyes

1953, Marion, Illinois. The young couple (the girl is 19 and the boy is 22) are agog with delight over their first child -- a baby boy with a winning smile and miraculous blue eyes that gaze luminously out of the black and white photos of the day. Like most first-time parents, they can't seems to take enough photos of their amazing child -- the beautiful offspring of a visually striking pair.

Blue-eyed people came from one common ancestor, a baby born with a gene mutation that gave him or her blue eyes in a world of brown-eyed humans. Imagine the surprise of the parents!

I admit, I'm fascinated  with people with blue eyes, an interest apparently shared by Elton John (and probably many others).

Blue eyes
Baby's got blue eyes
Like a deep blue sea
On a blue blue day


-- Elton John and Gary Osborne

Possum trot and chicken bristle

Country Corner by RT McDonald

About a half mile from our subdivision are two roads with unusual names: Possum Trot and Chicken Bristle. Maybe were named back when farmers had a say -- I'm not sure. These two wondrously named roads actually intersect though and Ron took a picture there yesterday -- pretty dramatic and certainly unlike what you usually see driving between the cornfields.

About 10 years ago when I was still running in the morning, I was heading down Possum Trot Road when I spied, at the bottom of the hill, a possum crossing the road. He was taking his sweet time -- maybe he was trotting?  I slowed way down to give him wide berth because his rat-like tail and sharp teeth gave me the creeps.

So the road is aptly named. Chicken Bristle Road, that's another story. My semi-exhaustive research did not turn up any part of the chicken called "bristle," although it might be the spur on the foot. This was never confirmed though.


It's a small, but memorable claim to fame, although we don't actually live on the roads, we still like to mention them!

Doggie Desire

The Mighty Hercules

I really want to get another dog. When I was working, our Brussels Griffon Hercules would unfailingly be at the front door to greet me at the end of the day. He came into our lives  as a red-haired puppy in 1994, delighting the girls by running circles in the yard and sneezing when he got excited. When he got older, he would lie in the sun until he panted from the heat, seemingly never making the connection between the golden rays and the excessive warmth. Hercules became a part of our family and we loved his gentle character. We cried when we had to have him put to sleep four years ago, after a year of increasing incontinence and failing health.

Now that I am alone a lot, I miss the companionship of a canine friend,  but walking a dog or even housebreaking a puppy would be impossible. So I began to explore what breed might be best for a disabled person.

Italian Greyhound

 Greyhounds have always impressed me as sensitive and beautiful dogs after seeing one several years ago in the veterinarian's office. Unfortunately, a standard greyhound is out -- they are bred for racing. However, after doing some research, it seemed that the smaller Italian Greyhound might be ideal (I actually found a disabled person who owned one!). Italian Greyhounds possessed a laid-back nature, and (an added plus in my book)they are so cold sensitive they can even be litter trained.

Most breeds have rescue sites and Italian greyhounds are no exceptions, so I've started looking. It may take a while but I am confident that I will end up with a great dog and wonderful companion.