Jayme Bugging Out

Published in The Packet

I tend to be Ms. Suzy Sunshine when I’m around other Americans living in Newfoundland. Whenever anyone complains about the weather, the shopping, or anything, really, I make a counterargument about why our lives in Newfoundland are wonderful. I can’t get over the feeling that we are guests in this province and we shouldn’t be rude, even if it is just to vent amongst ourselves.

Consequently, my American friends find me annoying and unsympathetic. My Canadian friends wonder why I’m so gushy about puffins and moose burgers.

One afternoon, a homesick and frustrated American friend called me and said she couldn’t imagine how anyone could live here forever. Before she could continue, I launched into part four of my aggressively cheerful monologue series, “The Things I Love about Newfoundland!”

“Hey! Did you know there are no snakes in this province?” I asked. “Yup. No snakes at all. In Florida, we have pythons that people kept as pets and then released into the wild when they grew too big. Since they have no natural predator, they are taking over and eating even the alligators! I’m so glad I live in Newfoundland where I don’t have to worry about that kind of thing.”

My friend was silent and a bit bewildered by the shift in topic.

“I love not worrying about snakes, alligators, fire ants, cock roaches, or any of the million creepy crawlies that live where it is hot and tropical,” I continued. “Newfoundland is a paradise! A pest free paradise!”

My friend mumbled something about another call coming through and hung up.

Over the course of a month, my pest free paradise became riddled with pests.

First came the carpenter ants. I did my best to ignore them, because they weren’t biting us or eating our food, but I did not appreciate their invasion into my kitchen.

Next came the black flies, which feasted on my daughter’s neck whenever we tried to play outside. Now, the second she comes indoors she goes straight to the medicine cabinet, and waits for me to unlock it and slather her in Afterbite cream.

I know a few bug bites are to be expected in the summer. At least I don’t have to worry about alligators eating my pets.

Just eagles. 

My Fish and Wildlife Enforcement pal told me they recently found a felled eagle nest with six cat collars in it. 

Yikes.

Lucky for me, I have no cat. I have a dog that loves the water.

But after reading a May Telegraph article by Josh Pennell about giant water bug sightings, I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for the enormous creatures, dubbed “toe nippers” by locals. Pennell wrote that water bugs rarely bite. Still, I wouldn’t put it past my curious dog to investigate and end up an exception to the rule.

Picture by Josh Pennell. 

Then came the spiders. I’m generally okay with spiders because they eat those dreaded black flies. I am not okay with them having babies all over my stroller.

If I had seen one baby spider, I might have smiled, showed my daughter and even called it cute. But hundreds of wriggling baby spiders trailing threads of web over every inch of the stroller’s wheels, tray and seat was something out of a nightmare. It was more than I could handle. I needed to share my revulsion and vent about the bugs that are driving us crazy this summer.

I called my friend.

“You know what I love about Newfoundland,” I said, brightly. “I’m learning so much about nature. Particularly, arachnids.”

Part four of the “The Things I Love About Newfoundland” monologues is under revision.