29 Dec

I have a problem with bugs, specifically with beetles. I trained myself not to mind spiders not long ago, because spiders are harmless and my fearful and disgusted reaction towards them is completely unwarranted. But I never had the same deep-seated disgust of spidersies that I do of beetles. They are different, oh yes. This time, dare I say, it’s personal.

It started when I was a kid. Often (it seemed it was often, although in reality I think it happened maybe twice), I was playing outside with my brother, and would find a timberman beetle had dropped from a tree into my hair. It was difficult to get them out, because they’d grab onto my hair with their disgusting feet. I can still remember how horrifying it felt – I could never ever touch an insect, but now I had to touch one or let it stay in my hair.

Timberman beetles especially horrify me – ladybugs, not so much. That is, until now. (que duh-duh-duuuh music)

When my significant other and I moved into this apartment a couple of years ago, I noticed a ladybug between the first two window panes in the kitchen window. I left the bug there, because it was in an inaccessible place. It was kind of cute, too, with its little toes up in the air.

When the weather started getting warmer the next spring, more ladybugs started appearing in our flat. At first I thought they’re kind of ok as long as they stay away from me. Until more came, and then more. When fall came, I opened the windows to clean them… and revealed that they had nested in great big heaps in the window frames. Dozens of dried up husks of ladybugs floated in the water and riddled my rags as I washed and dried the windows. The pointlessness of their demise – to be born and then die in a little hollow in the window – only served to underline how deeply disturbing these insects were for me.

I thought that was that. I had destroyed the hive, the source of the evil. The scourge was over – more would not come.

But no. They keep coming. They’re everywhere. I come across some outside our apartment, as well – they must have infested the whole building. Only this morning I was going to the basement to do some laundry, and another one was sitting on the stairs, taunting me.

Lately they have started attacking me. I’ll be sitting here, knitting, minding my own business, when something tickles my neck. More often than not, as I absent-mindedly brush my skin, I’ll feel the little wriggly feet against my fingers, and I’ll yelp and throw the disgusting critter away.

SO thinks I’m insane – I have to stop myself and not throw the next one away, so it won’t be able to hide. That’ll show him.

They’re crafty little devils, and will use their dirty, dirty wings to flutter away after assaulting me, leaving me on my knees, combing through the carpet. I would not be able to kill one, because it would make that cracking sound, but I would contain it, and leave it to die of old age. SO might object to an up-side-down glass or some such being left in the middle of the floor, but he does not understand. THEY ARE REAL, I swear.

I looked today, several of them had crawled into one of the lamps to die. I believe they are attracted by the brightness of my display and hit me on their graceless flight towards it, and after I repel them, they continue toward the next bright spot in the room, only to fry and die a slow, burning death BUAHAHAHAA!…


So, what, you may ask, has this to do with knitting?

Apparently, lots, because I started knitting a pair of bug mittens for myself. Maybe facing my fear will help me deal with it, maybe harnessing their power to protect me from the cold will be the sweet revenge I so crave. Mostly, I have no clue why I’m doing these. I hate those creepy crawlies. *shudder*

The pattern is called Entomology. It was designed by Adrian Bizilia, and was published in the book Knitalong. I’m using what I believe to be leftover 7 veljestä from Novita (an aran weight wool blend, found in my stash) and 3 mm needles.


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