We live in such an antiseptic society where flies in the house are abhorrent.

When we grew up, flies were common and without screens in the windows on hot summer nights they would come into the house in dozens.  Now I am not talking of the images we have from Africa where flies are crawling over faces and eyes of children, we are talking of limited access.  No one really was concerned because, unlike mosquitos, they did not bite.  Biggest issue was keeping them from landing on food on the table so we had little tents we put over the butter and would sweep them away as they buzzed over the meal.

On the farm it was a bigger issue with hundreds of them but Blaine and I would be given fly swatters and it became a sport to see how many you could kill.  Sort of like big game hunters killing deer and elk and elephants but much cheaper.  Still the same glory of the hunt. I remember spending hours with big elastic bands shooting at them with great success.

Now we live in sealed houses where, despite comfortable temperatures outside, the windows have screens and the doors must be closed immediately once you pass through.

Despite these precautions a big, fat black fly got into the house last evening.  So Pat sent me on the hunt with a traditional plastic swatter in one hand and a high tech electronic taser swatter in the other.  Chasing it around the house with lots of times when I had to stand in wait for movement.  Sort of like big game hunters sitting in camouflaged hides waiting for the prey to move and reveal itself.

Finally it desperately flew to the windows in the living room seeking escape.  Being big and fat, it was slow and I was able to trap it in the corner with the electronic zapper swatter and as it tried to escape I juiced it and sparks flew from the body until the point where it fell dead on the ledge.

I AM A HUNTER.  I tried to show my trophy to the wife but she was not impressed.