Do termites serve a purpose, or were they put on this Earth to make us miserable? I’m starting to think they were.
Two weeks we’ve been staying at Auntie Janice’s house, and she’s making it pretty clear that she doesn’t want us around. Sorry, Auntie, but we can’t go back to our house. It’s being extensively fumigated, to the point where we can’t actually live there at the moment. I really do appreciate the services of Mornington and its pest control, but there’s nothing they can do for a job this big, Wouldn’t have BEEN a job this big, but…no use pointing fingers now.
Actually, I will, but I’ll point the fingers at myself first. I’ve been kicking myself this whole time as well, because I’m pretty sure what brought the termite troubles upon us. We just HAD to move into a place with an open wood fire, which I’ve always been against. Sure enough, once winter rolled around we were traipsing back and forth between the wood shed and the house. We’d come back and the place would be freezing, and we’d be miserable trying to get the fire started, and then it’d take a good while to actually heat up anyway, and it’d be a massive pain in the butt, every day. There’s no end to the process either. You do it every day, possibly several times a day depending on whether the logs are good burners.
So I just said that maybe we should move the wood-shed a bit closer. I didn’t mean take all the logs and dump them right next to the house underneath the pergola, but that’s what David did. Lazy boy.
Naturally, no one even thought to check the wood for…visitors. And we’re in a weatherboard house as well, so it was a recipe for absolute disaster. And funnily enough, it was an absolute disaster! The Mornington termite inspection people said they haven’t seen a case this bad in years. Typical. Makes me wish we were still renting so we can move to a place with under-floor heating.
-June
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