Where ladybugs go to die

Last night, in a fit of spring energy mixed with winter disgust, I mopped the floors and pulled down some of the window plastic. Everything seems much brighter. The tile is a much cheerier sandy orange. Though I’ve gotten pretty good at shrinkwrapping my windows so you can’t really tell, the film is indeed a film. Now that it’s gone, the whole room seems brighter.

I was as careful as I could be removing the plastic. Even, so, I accidentally peeled up a couple chunks of windowsill paint in my bedroom. Fortunately, they’re windowsills I painted when I moved in (and removed the baseball wallpaper), so I have plenty of spare paint. It should be a relatively quick touchup some dreary day.

However, I was amazed – shocked, nearly – at the volume of dead ladybugs trapped between the window glass and the film! Most windows had at least three or four beetle bodies, but some – namely the upstairs hallway and bathroom – had a dozen, easy. In the fall, when they start coming in to the house, Collette has a field day chasing them, trapping them under her paws, and crunching them as they try to fly away. She didn’t seem too interested in the long-dead carcases, though.

I wonder how they got there, though. My seals were pretty tight, so they must have wriggled in through both the storm window and the glass. The storm windows wouldn’t surprise me, since they’re old and don’t really fit snugly. The glass itself is a bit concerning, though. Both those windows are on my list to replace sooner rather than later, and they’re exactly the same size and age – big and old.

I can just imagine a whole line of them seeking shelter from the cold October nights, crawling towards the house, hurtling the storm window, and glass before getting trapped by the film.

Unless, of course, I’ve disproved Redi and Pasteur. Maybe there really is spontaneous generation and my house should be a research site!

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