Bane of Housewives
They are everywhere in Florida, and yoga studios are not immune. They are different from their northern brethren, but they are indeed….ROACHES. I have heard my southern native friends claim that these are not cockroaches, that they are something more innocuous called Palmetto Bugs, but let’s be clear: they are wrong. Not only are they absolutely cockroaches, but they are HUGE and THEY FLY. They fly!!!
I moved here from DC 3 1/2 years ago, so this is not news to me. I’ve become accustomed (sort of) to them dive bombing patio parties. They don’t infest a place like those up North, but they are opportunistic intruders. They fly and crawl and swim in, some say seeking water, some say escaping it, but here you are turning on a kitchen light, and…there on your counter is a giant, shiny brown beast, antennae waving. Once in the night I was lucky to see one LOUNGING IN THE TOILET BOWL before I could sit down. Oh, god. Horrors. And whenever this subject is broached down here, someone will manage to tell you a worse story than you’ve heard before. It was lodged in your ear? Your mom found one, in your diaper? And so on, forever.
At all the studios here where I’ve been lucky enough to teach, there has been that moment (or several) when in the middle of class, there is a flurry and a flailing, and at that point, I hope to hell someone in the room will be braver than I am and take care of the bug. There are limits to my ahimsa, and those limits are mosquitos and cockroaches.
I will close with this excellent entry, from Insects, 1951, care of Kelly Jackson. The Coal Age? Yes, right on the heels of the Age of Ferns.