Silverfish

It's beginning to get cold in Clarksville, Tennessee. We've had frost adversaries all week which has lead to the tragic death of my giant geraniums I managed to keep alive all summer. That, in itself, is something to celebrate. I kept a plant alive all summer in Tennessee!!! Woot! There is a first time for everything!

 

So, in recognition of cold weather setting in, Nature from OUTSIDE has decided its time to move INTO the house. I know what you're thinking; you have mice again, Jackie, it's normal for you. No. I wish it was mice. Instead I have an overwhelming invasion of silverfish. The name silverfish doesn't sound like it could possibly be a scary thing. It sounds aquatic and rich.

 

Not. At. All.

 

This is what has been invading my home:

 

 

OF COURSE, that is not a picture I took. That picture is compliments of Google Images. Any time I see a silverfish in my home I am too busy running away from one or killing one in a frenzy to take time to photograph it.

 

I had a particularly horrific incident with a very resilient silverfish a few days ago.

 

So, I am pretty ghetto, and instead of having a laundry basket that I throw my dirty laundry into, I use the floor of my closet. I am well aware that I am housing dirty laundry on the floor where I keep clean laundry on hangers. However, I have yet to be told that I smell terrible while wearing seemingly clean clothes. Don't hate.

 

I went to do laundry, finally. As usual, I laid a used towel on the floor and pawed a bunch of dirty laundry out of my closet onto it. I was doing a load that was heavy in the military clothes department. I like to wash my Army clothes and my regular/delicate clothes separately. All the Velcro on my uniforms tends to destroy my underwear.

 

So anyways, I had a big load of Army laundry clutched to my chest in a towel that I was taking to the washing machine from the bedroom to the kitchen (where my laundry machines are located). I held the laundry as tightly as I could so I wouldn't drop anything. As I was stuffing the laundry into the machine, one of these horrible silverfish came scurrying out of my laundry.

 

Now, do you recall my verbiage? I had just been clutching this laundry to my chest. A silverfish had been hitching a ride. Essentially, I had been hugging this silverfish. I HUGGED A SILVERFISH!

 

This silverfish emerged frantically from a fold in the clothing, waving all it's legs and antennas at me. It stopped along the fly of a pair of my pants. It froze. I froze. And then I think my heart froze. I couldn't muster up the courage to catch the silverfish. You've seen what they look like! I wasn't trying to put hands on that! Instead, I poured detergent over it and slammed the lid down.

 

"You will die in suds", I decided aloud.

 

When it came time to change the laundry over to the dryer, I was cautious, but certain 45 minutes in soapy water killed the culprit. I carefully placed all my laundry into the dry and shut the door. I set the timer for an hour. I figured the silverfish had a fragile body that had disintegrated in the water and soap.

 

Boy was I wrong. As soon as I stepped away from the laundry machines, I saw that silverfish hanging out right in front of them. It wasn't nearly as agile as it had been. No, he was definitely stunned; yet still alive. IT HAD LIVED THROUGH THE WASHING MACHINE. I immediately flipped out and called for James to do the slaying. He took care of it and I immediately made him take the garbage bag (which was the silverfish's final resting place) out to the garbage can.

 

I loathe outside critters coming in to visit for the winter. YUCK!