Effing Maggots

Harley hardly at work.
He was cold, so he wore his little flannel jacket over his red T-shirt. 

I have a serious love-hate relationship with my current workamping assignment. The people are very nice, especially the other workampers and hunters. The wildlife area on the prairie is stunningly beautiful.  Harley dog works with me.

But the long 15-16 hour shifts are a bear to survive, some of the work is too heavy duty for me. My back and shoulder feel like they were ripped out.  The pain makes me grumpy. Today the work is downright awful. They forgot to pick up our garbage last week, so it has been accumulating in large trash cans that are lined with garbage bags. That's because I sent over a "Wish List" to the powers to be. On it were jumbo trash bags. Finally many things on the wish list turned up along with the trash bags. But I guess they didn't arrive quick enough.

Maggots appeared on the scene last night, attacking all the garbage. Finally this morning, someone came for the garbage. They were disgusted by the maggots. They hauled off the garbage but left the cans behind which are infested in maggots. I am disgusted by the maggots.  Now I've spent three hours trying to fight and kill the maggots.

I had no idea they were so hard to kill!   So far the maggots are winning. I've tried bleach, wasp spray, bug spray and now I am researching the internet on how to kill maggots.

I have not had a thing to eat, but my stomach is putting up loud protests.  My food looks like maggots and I can't eat. There are no maggots on my food, but I can't stop thinking about them. This is all rather disgusting. Killing maggots was not in the volunteer job description. I usually don't mind going well beyond the call of duty to get things done, but this is just horrible. Yuck.  I now know that I do not like maggots. Not one bit.

At least the garbage is kept far away from my motorhome. But unfortunately the garbage is kept near the hunters station where I work. So the station is now partly  infested with maggots. I am oh so tempted to hang up a sign: "Closed due to maggots!" and leave town. Leave the county. Maybe leave the state.

Oh wait.  It's cold across the state line. Brrr...  OK, I won't leave the state.

But I am responsible and trustworthy. So I won't leave town.  But I am seriously fed up with maggots. What a way to start the day. I am trying to find the comedy in maggots.

OK here goes...

A boy and a girl maggot were  munching on an old turkey leg. Finally the boy maggot says "What's a nice girl like you doing in a joint like this?"

I just took a break to read up on maggots. Now I'm not only disgusted with maggots but educated about them  too. Maggots are the larval stage of flies.

Oh boy. I have flies to look forward to next.

My camera is acting up, so I am going to try to reset the settings, then photograph the maggots. Then again...  now that I've thought about it,  maybe not.

All right, time for another maggot joke...

A man arrived in hell. Satan said he had three choices. Behind door number one, folks were standing on their head on a brick floor. Behind door number two, they were standing on their head on a wooden floor. Behind door number three, people were standing up ankle deep in maggots but drinking coffee and smiling.


The man chose door number three. Satan stuffed him inside, handed him a cup of coffee, then slammed the door locking it firmly. The man stood ankle deep in maggots sipping his coffee.  A few moments later a loud voice boomed overhead; "Coffee break is over!  Time to stand back on your head!"

So here I am taking a coffee break, writing about maggots...

OK, I fiddled with the camera and took some pictures.  

The stop sign in the picture below, is aimed squarely at the road approaching it. That road is posted as 15mph speed limit. It's a dirt road.

There is also a  handheld STOP sign inside the station. That is so one can run out in front of a 70 mile per hour truck to wave the handheld STOP sign at them in case they don't stop at the stop sign.

Am I the only one who thinks this is slightly suicidal?

Last week, I did flag down a pickup truck that was going about 70 miles per hour.  I heard him roaring up the road, when I stepped outside in a foolish attempt to stop him.  He slammed on brakes, stopping about 40 feet past the stop sign, creating a huge cloud of dust. As I coughed, sputtered and smiled, I said "That's the fastest 15 miles per hour I have ever seen!"

He apologized, took his card, then drove off sedately.

Three Lakes Wildlife Management
Highway 441 Check Station
Florida