We live in the country, it's summer, there are flies. A non-standard pest-eradication programme has commenced.
Stage 1 :
DH cremated the flies where they landed using a butane blowtorch. Stage 1 was abruptly, yet sadly for him, not abruptly enough, terminated when the bloodlust took him and he tried to wipe out a fly on the organza drapes in our bedroom. (3 1/2 inch hole, 30 min row, flowers for me, new curtains on order)
Stage 2 :
DH stands, fixated, right now, in the hall, with the Dyson, (I'm trying to think of a non-smutty way of saying 'pole extended', but there isn't) hoovering them up as they land, with a look of near religious mania on his face.
Anyone else care to share? Or am I married to the weirdest man in Britain?