Covid, Elm bugs, Staying Sane

This year has been anything but normal. The onset of Covid and our social distancing in March was just the beginning of so many unusual and unexpected events. I wasn't even going to blog about this because it seems so mundane. But taken all together, things start to weigh you down and I feel myself sometimes teetering on the edge of depression.

I am generally a positive, upbeat person and all about problem-solving. I like to remember a lawyer I once worked for, a brilliant man who was later an appeals court judge for Utah, but no longer with us now. When something went wrong, he would predictably blow up with loud yelling and swearing -- for about 30 seconds. Then he was over it and got down to solving the problem. He never yelled at people, just the universe. I never took it personally, even when the mistake was mine. But I learned a valuable lesson in problem solving: it's fine to rant and vent; but the sooner you can get to figuring out the solutions, the sooner you're going to be feeling better about it. "All right," he would say, "here's what we're going to do." And from there on it was a pragmatic exercise in finding the best options and getting the thing done. And often, he ended with some humor and good-natured kidding.

Normally, I try to approach problems that same way. Pragmatism is my middle name. And humor is my anti-depressive medication. I'm not going to put up a laundry list of my summertime troubles now. Suffice it to say, I've plugged along with the yard and house responsibilities fairly well. I finally hired a guy to mow just the front lawn to help me out. And I've decided this week to hire a guy to finish up weeding the yard for me as it's getting just too hot.

The yard cleanup and fixup has been slow because I'm old and slow. I have to stop when I have too much pain. But I am really pleased with the things I've gotten done. My patio had become a place of beauty and serenity. I invited people over as it was a great place for social distancing while socializing. We ordered in food or brought our own lunches. It felt good to have human interaction and feel safe about it. But all of that ended this week with the invasion of the Elm Seed Bugs -- the thing that has finally gotten the best of me.

This is a relatively new pest to Utah, arriving around 2009. This is my first year with it. They feed on the seeds of the trashy Siberian Elm tree, of which there are two gigantic ones on my neighbor's property, hanging over mine. These trees have been a source of great irritation to me over the years. This year brought an especially prolific number of the white round elm seeds which covered the yard and looked almost like snow, impossible to rake up.

My neighbor's house sits atop a steep hill above the trees, and he has multiple levels of block walls holding the hill in place. He believes the trees help stabilize the hill. He once threatened to sue another neighbor who removed an elm tree that was literally knocking down a fence. So, I know this is already a touchy subject.

To add insult to the nastiness of the tree, this neighbor needed a place for first one and then two ugly storage sheds, which he decided to place on the bottom tier of block wall, right next to my property line and under that obnoxious tree. The sheds are two different sizes and color and look hideous right there next to the corner of my deck. But I have tried to take it in stride, training some ivy to climb along the side to eventually hide the ugly things. But that irritation now pales in comparison to the elm seed bug invasion.

A little over a week ago, I walked out on the patio, to see hordes of tiny black bugs all over the walls of my house on the southwest corner by the elm tree. I sprayed with my usually effective insect spray. And lots of bugs died. But more kept coming to replace them. And, yes, some of those died, but many didn't. They started coming inside the house. Then I walked out the front door (which I rarely use) and saw a terrifying sight of thousand of bugs all over the tall outside entry to my house. It was sickening. I used the hose to wash them all away and realized I was dealing with something bigger than my little sprayer could handle. A question to my gardening group on Facebook produced the name of the bug and enabled me to research and find out how to deal with it. I looked closely at the limbs and leaves of the elm tree; there were literally thousands of the bugs within my immediate view. I called an exterminator and had the entire outside of the house sprayed as well as the tree, to the extent possible. I did some selective spraying also on the inside.

And now I wait. Every day there are new dead bodies. Every day, I use the leaf blower to get rid of them outside and vacuum inside. There are fewer and fewer each day, but they are still arriving.

These things are not harmful: they don't bite, they don't eat your garden, they don't eat furniture, clothing or food. They are just gross simply because of the sheer numbers and how they collect together. For now, my patio furniture is all bunched together at one side, covered in plastic awaiting the end of the plague. I've educated myself on these pests, and I know eventually they will go dormant. But it could be weeks until then.

I'm exhausted and disgusted with cleaning them up. It feels like I'm neglecting so much else and I'm getting a little behind. I'm very sad I can't use my patio which is so pleasant, even on the hottest days. There are still too many bugs. Did I mention these pests also fly? My best option for having people over is no more.  My escape spot for evening sunset watching or morning coffee drinking and enjoying the birds, the flowers and the fresh air is no more. It really hit me hard when I realized how much of a loss that was to me in this year of Covid, with no idea when I can use that patio again.

When will things return to normal? Suddenly, I felt so underwater with everything. Even depressed.

This weekend I saw a little doe eating flowers in my yard. I took a picture of her. She was completely unfazed by my presence and continued eating. There was something almost calming and pleasant in watching that sweet non-threatening animal. Something normal in a year of insanity. Watching her made me laugh because that has certainly been one consistency in all my years living at this house--the deer eat my flowers. My pragmatic self returned.

Okay, I have to keep on diligently cleaning up dead bugs. What other choice do I have? And I'll meet up with people in other ways, keeping as safe as possible. I'll keep working on my to do lists for inside and out. I may even sell my house this summer if I get everything ready. I think the Elm Seed bug invasion has finally made me look forward to that major change in my life. But that's another topic for another time.