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carrion beetles in a shit bucket
Monday, July 18 2016
I don't like to throw anything away, though (particularly in the era of container ships from China) it's frequently the case that the effort necessary to fix something is more than the fixed item ends up being worth. The more one makes per hour, the less sense it makes to spend any time fixing anything at all.
The other day I fixed one of our usually-reliable Panasonic DECT 6.0 handsets whose loudspeaker (the one used for ringing, speakerphone, and other things) was failing to make any noise. Initially I'd suspected a bad solder joint or blown electronics, but the speaker itself had been the problem. I'd replaced it with a somewhat-bigger speaker from an older model of DECT 6.0 phone, and, since the new speaker hadn't fit its new housing properly, it didn't prove to be as loud. But I'd fixed it, damn it, and it gives me pride to have done so.
I made another notable fix this morning when I addressed a ten-inch-long slit that had gradually developed along the central rear seam of a pair of shorts that I like to wear on hot summer days. They're actually old pajama bottoms whose legs were gradually torn to ribbons and that I eventually cut away. They're made of smooth fabric and are light and comfortable, and I didn't like that I had to change out of them whenever company was coming over. So this morning I sat at my computer with a needle and thread and sewed them up. The hardest part of that whole job was just threading the damn needle, and I even magnifying glass to help me.
Along with the constant demand of work and the steady stream of fixes to things that break, there are also chores, some of which are unique to me. One of those concerns the shit that I remove from my brownhouse. I usually drag that big can out and let it fester for awhile before loading it into the drum composter. Part of that festering involves the action of insects burrowing into it, laying eggs on it, hatching, growing up, and flying away (or being eaten by birds). There are two beetles of note that I frequently see scurrying about on the shit can's crusty topmost layer (which I usually cover with a demure layer of vegetation). One of these is a fairly large beetle that always seems to be covered with tiny little crablike creatures. If I didn't know better, I would think those little creatures were baby beetles, but that isn't how it works with beetles, which grow into adult-sized grubs before metamorphosing into adults. I would later learn that these "baby beetles" are actually a symbiotic species of mite, and the beetles are a kind of carrion beetle, probably in the genus Nicrophorus. The other species of beetle is also a Carrion Beetle (Necrophila americana), one that doesn't appear to have a relationship with mites.
Usually I leave the lid off the shit bucket to encourage exchanges between it and the insect world outside of it, though this means I have to cover it back up when it rains. Otherwise, well, you get what I found today. I could see two individual carrion beetles (one of each of the two species mentioned above) walking around on the scum floating atop the turd swamp. But all the water of one or two big rain storms had turned the shit into a stew. Using two big buckets of pine needles, I managed to thicken the stew up enough to fork a good bit of it into the drum composter. And then the shit can was light enough for me to pour the rest of its nasty contents in on top of what I'd just forked (and yet more pine needles). I don't know if the carrion beetles survived the transfer, but if they did, the conditions in the drum will probably support a great many more beetles than the surface-only shit environment they'd had before.
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