My new book “Midlife Solo” is now available.

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kill dem bugs

These are the words that are music to my ears today: Termidor, which is so toxic it’s illegal in Canada, and Altriset, not as toxic and legal. Termite poison. Death to the colonies. Lots has to happen, mostly drilling all around the perimeter of the house, inside and out, to deliver the poison, plus making sure there’s no moisture anywhere. They like warm, damp wood. The roofer has to come back to check every bit of my roof. My neighbour Pierre went to the States to get Termidor for his house, but I’m a law-abiding Canadian, so Altriset it is. I hope they’ll get to it just after Xmas.

Had to check when the huge infestation was: August 2012. Luckily, it was a hot dry summer.

The ceiling right above my bed, before –

and after.

And rebuilt. My study now was then my bedroom – they ripped the roof and walls right off and remade it all. So this new problem could be much, much worse.

More good news – they chopped a piece of ceiling out of my tenant’s apartment and found the beams to be in good shape. There’s one possibly chewed beam but it won’t bring the house down. YAY!

The heat was off again today so I sat here in coat and boots, stewing internally and freezing externally. Truly, I have the A team; I trust Kevin and Ed implicitly and see now that if JM had been around when the termites first appeared, he would have made sure we did more to keep them from coming back. My modus vivendi: deal with unpleasant things quickly and cheaply and MOVE RIGHT ALONG. Often, it turns out, a mistake.

Intended to get out today, if just for a walk – no. Trying to decide on how to get away during the winter – nearly impossible in this chaos. Thinking about my book? It is to laugh.

The house speaks to me at night, creaking, cracking, and groaning, even banging. Freaked me out at first, as I lie in my basement cubby listening to the mysterious noises above. Kevin said they took a thousand pounds of drywall to the dump today, so the house is feeling its bones for the first time in decades and telling me all about it. And soon, house, we’ll make sure you’re not being devoured by bugs.

After all this, if this old house doesn’t actually kill me, I’ll die of old age here and they’ll carry me out, out through my bugless front door, feet first.



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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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