Of insects

Adrian takes - and posts - wonderful photos of insects. He seems to love them all. I, on the other hand do not love them all, but I do respect them. When I see a tiny storm fly, and think there's a minute heart beating inside it, I am full of admiration. For clever as we are, no-one has yet managed to make anything so miraculous.

But. There are some insects I am willing to destroy.

1. Wasps. When I just happen to meet one, that's fine, but when I see a child almost eating one on his sandwich, it's time for action.

2. Houseflies. Outside the house, that's fine. But indoors, crawling over food (and I know where those dirty little feet have been), or buzzing round the bedroom (I have a horrible fantasy of one falling into my mouth while I'm asleep), then a quick swat. I was once given this useful hint: always swat a fly from the front, as they can't take off backwards. Trust me. This works.

3. Clothes moths. I wouldn't  mind so much if these ate a complete garment. I might even forget I'd ever had that gament in the first place. But oh no. They have to indulge in a kind of taster menu, taking one bite out of every garment in the drawer. This is greedy and selfish, and punishable by death.

However, I rescue many, including the following:

1.  Spiders. I hoover up their belongings and escort them outside. We have a lot of those anorexic spindly ones, with untidy webs, and they  make a lot of mess.

2. Daddy long legs. These seem to me the be the most useless of insects. They dance about randomly, using up energy and leaving their legs all over the window sill. In fact, I'm not sure why they have legs at all. Their children - leather jackets - are most unattractive. Daddy long legs don't eat, but I suppose they have sex of some kind because of the children (see above). These are easy to scoop up in one hand and throw out of the nearest window.

3. Moths and butterflies (obviously).

4. Anything small and crawly that's come in with me from the garden.

Where does spinach go (and other questions)?

Tonight we are having spinach, and as I looked at the (large) packet, I wondered (not for the first time) where exactly does spinach go? You know the phenomenon; you start off with lots of spinach, and within seconds, all you have is a small, wet pile of something that looks like seaweed.

And then there are all those other imponderables:
Why do people almost invariably start up their engines before doing up their seat belts?
Why do we (women) open our mouths when putting on eye make-up?
Why (when giving directions over the phone) do we use our hands to demonstrate, knowing perfectly well that the person we're talking to can't see us?
Do spiders sleep?
What are wasps for?
Why do people always speak so much more loudly when on their mobiles (especially on trains)?
Where are all those odd socks?

(And why am I wasting time doing this, when I have a meal to cook?)