Hotel California? Bates Motel?

Been feeling too lazy to blog, but I must tell you about the photo in the last (Sept. 13) entry, and a funny thing that happened in relationship to it.

Teresa--it's not a candle plate--just a plate-plate, with a little something extra. Ann, my dear sister, whose wonderful cottage we're staying in, you know exactly what it is (and NOT gazpacho!). That was sick. Drumroll, please...

It is a fruitfly trap. It's red wine in a saucer covered and sealed with plastic wrap with 3 toothpick holes in it. The little guys find their way in, but can't find their way to freedom. The dark globs you see in the wine are masses of dead fruitflies. Pretty gross. We had a huge attack of them, and needed a way to control them, so we looked on the Internet and found the design. We had already intuitively put wine in the plate to draw them away from our dinner, but only after we found a way to make it the Hotel California (you can check out anytime you like but you can never leave), did it do the job.

Okay. Correlated story. Last night, Dad took us to Lincoln Hills Country Club for the Friday night buffet (which was grand, by the way--best club food ever) and I ordered a glass of shiraz. It came and I took a sip and discovered something floating in it. My first thought was "cork," but when I looked, there was a graveyard of fruitflies! Apparently, the bottle had been uncorked and they found their way in but not out. EEEyech! I had fruitflies in my mouth and stuck to my lipstick! Oddly, it didn't gross me out as much as I would have thought. I don't think I'll be a contestant on Fear Factor or one of those survival shows, but a little fruitfly in your wine is not the worst thing in  the world...except, perhaps for the fruitfly! However, I can probably think of worse deaths than getting totally smashed and drowning in wine.

Here's a picture of Dad, Rick, and me at dinner: