Our blogging friend and writer from America, David Miller, has an insect intrusion problem. Here is his guest post about that.
His blog can be found using this link. https://millerswindmill.wordpress.com/about/

GO TO THE VINEGAR!

Over the years, I’ve had to battle crickets, roaches, spiders, and ants. I’ve shot jiminy crickets off the wall with a rubber band gun. I’ve smashed roach warriors with the heel of a shoe. I’ve blasted webmaster spiders into goo with a perfectly aimed paper towel. And I’ve drowned purveyors of formic acid by running hot water in the sink. In every battle, I eventually emerged victorious.

But now I have a new battle on my hands.

I call them gnasty gnats. They first began pestering me last summer. I’m not sure how they got into the house, but I suspect they are breeding in the potted ficus. These gnasty gnats like to zip by my computer monitor when I’m online, buzz around the dinner table when I’m eating, and chase me around the house from one room to another the rest of the time.

I often engage in defensive measures. At the dinner table, when I’m eating, I chase them away, at least temporarily, with flailing arms. Elsewhere in the house, I try to crush them with a thunderous slap of the palm of my hands (on those occasions where I succeed in creating splat, I follow up the kill with a vigorous washing of my hands). Finally, at my computer, whenever a foolish gnat attempts to fly up my nose, I snort it away with all the force my lungs can muster.

But I can’t win the battle with defensive measures. I can’t wait for the enemy to launch its attack. I have to take offensive measures. Specifically, I have to take measures that don’t require me to directly involve myself in the battle. A passive approach!

A few weeks ago, I found a recipe online for a bath that promised to trap gnats in the same way that the La Brea tar pits trapped prehistoric animals like the ground sloth:
* Two tablespoons of apple cider vinegar
* One tablespoon of sugar
* Six drops of dishwashing liquid
* Half a cup of warm water

So I got out two small bowls and proceeded to give these so-called “gnat traps” a try, but with less water. One bowl was placed on my computer desk. Success there has been minimal, presumably because gnats that are attracted to my computer are more intelligent than their gnat-so-smart siblings. The second bowl was strategically placed on the windowsill by the ficus. And it works like a charm─a deadly charm that brings me great moments of joy every single day! Of course, I have to flush the dozen or so gnats down the drain on a regular basis, as the vinegar/sugar bath slowly solidifies into something like a skating rink. (I should point out that although gnasty gnats are the bataille du jour, I’ve also found a couple of ants in the trap. Thankfully, these scouts will never return to the collective with words of encouragement.)

Anyway, I often imagine a gnasty gnat emerging from the ficus, discovering the gnat trap, and saying to itself, “Oh, what a sweet-smelling graveyard for stupid insects like me! I’ve gotta check it out!” Sometimes, though, an errant gnat is in need of firm guidance. Of course, I’m happy to satisfy that need. So I’ll point out the gnat trap and shout, “Go to the vinegar!”

Although I’m happy to report that the gnat trap is working, I must sadly inform you that the Battle of the Gnats continues to this very day, and that I’m beginning to wonder if it will ever end. Yesterday, I was thinking about the film Aliens, where Sigourney Weaver, as Ellen Ripley, confronts the xenomorphs’ queen mother. Do gnats have a queen? Am I dealing with Gladys Gnat and the perps? Or do the gnats jazz to the commands of Gnat King Cole? Either way, I’m up for a battle royal.

Ah, the thrill of “Victory!” That would be music to my ears!