Piers and his creatures

One of the things that surprises me about Piers is that he doesn’t kill pests. (I think it runs in his family.)

Everyone else I know would kill ants, cockroaches, flies or any unidentified creepy crawlies without a thought, by any means available (swatting, squishing, flushing down toilet, insecticide spraying, poisoning, burning).

Piers would rescue them.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea. He doesn’t like insects, especially in his home, but he will not kill them. He will capture them in a box and then set them free outdoors.

When we were at the villa in Mallorca, he offered biscuits to a trail of ants, and later helped them courier a dead wasp to their home.


Ants with dead wasp
Piers’ good deed for the day


The ants were about four feet away from home when he found them trying to cart their treasure along, but they were so slow and it would have taken them hours, so Piers just picked up the wasp and dropped it right at their doorstep, causing the carrying ants to get into a frenzy when their luggage vanished before their eyes.

The worker ants at the door quickly radioed for help and, soon, a whole bunch of them came to help drag the wasp through their doorway.

I think Piers has some kind of strange affinity with creatures. Not just insects, but also animals. He has a talent for spotting things. He’s always doing it and pointing them out to whomever’s around.


Spotted at a hill path to Bournemouth Beach.


In Mallorca, he spotted one silverfish, one ladybird, two praying mantids separately, a giant queen ant, a hummingbird, the first bat that flew across our villa, and two goats camouflaged on a mountain.


Ladybird finding refuge on his sleeve.


Praying mantis
Praying mantis in a corner by the ceiling on the balcony of the villa.


He also rescued a bee who fell into our Coke can while trying to drink our Coke.

In comparison, I spotted only one baby cockroach who liked to use our bathroom in the villa in the middle of the night.

The goat spotting was really something else.

We were lying by the pool, reading, when he suddenly said, “Did you hear that?”

“No,” I said.

“Sounded like a goat,” he said.

I listened and heard nothing.

He listened some more, then ran off. I continued reading.

Fifteen minutes later, he ran back excitedly to tell everyone that he had spotted a small goat on the mountain behind the villa.


The goat was somewhere halfway up the mountain.


It was a bit hard to spot because the goats (we later discovered there were two) kept hiding behind tall grass and bushes, only walking out into view occasionally.

And they were really far away, so I had to max out the optical zoom on my camera (12x) to get a barely discernable image of them.


Mountain goat
Goat moving through tall grass.


Mountain goat
Goat looking straight at us!


Several months ago (I was in Singapore at that time) Piers was trying to fix his washing machine when he discovered a giant scary brown spider at the back of the machine.

He caught it in a disposable plastic container, took a photo of it, then set it free outside his apartment.

I looked at the photo and spent 15 minutes on Google trying to discover its breed to find out whether it’s deadly. Turned out it was a rustic wolf spider. Non fatal to humans but could potentially kill a dog.

Personally, I would want something scary like that dead if it’s living anywhere near me, but at the same time I respect Piers’ non-killing policy.

I suppose it doesn’t really matter too much. All that matters is that he does all the bug catching so I don’t have to.

Stupid Goonfather!

I almost walked face-first into a daddy longlegs yesterday.

It was hanging at face height on the way to my door, like a booby trap.

Daddy Longlegs

Because it’s brownish-yellow and thin, and my room’s light is yellow, I couldn’t see it until I was almost kissing it.

Shocked, I jumped back but managed to hold in a shriek. I rushed to my computer and started typing to the Goonfather.

I bought Ventolin inhaler also from https://www.gatewayanalytical.com/ventolin-inhaler/ when my son had stenosis, I now buy it whenever we run out of it, just to be on the safe side. I don’t have anything negative to say about it, I like how it works, it is soft but effective. So I always recommend Ventolin to other moms that ask me for advice on that.


“There’s a daddy longlegs hanging by a thread in front of my shelf. Sad smiley” I said.

The reply came back: “Then you never wish it Happy Belated Father’s Day?”


A minute later, my MSN window opened again and there was the Goonfather raving:

“Ehhh… I know you gonna take a pic of the spider now, and then blog what I tell you, and call the post Stupid Goonfather!”

I smiled. “I already Plurk/Twitter about it!”



[Fast forward 15 minutes…]

“Arrgh. The daddy longlegs was climbing down its thread as I was walking out of the room. I almost walked into it again!!”

“Ehh… why you never kill it??”

“I don’t like killing insects, except ants. Cos I can’t deal with the corpse.”

“Hmm… you need an undertaker.”

“My undertaker is at work now.”

Pregnant pause…



Milipede murderer

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it, but I seem to be getting more than my fair share of roles requiring me to be bed mates with creepy crawlies.

First, I had to lie on a wet forest floor infested with all kinds of icky insects burrowing among dead leaves.

Second time, I had to lie on a cemetry road owned by whole continents of ants. All kinds of ants. Red, black, brown, tiny ones, giant ones. (And during the times I didn’t have to lie down, the swarms of mozzies had their turn at me.)

And yesterday, I had to roll around and lie on a road covered with milipedes.

I never knew until yesterday that milipedes came in so many different colours. There were black ones, reddish-brown ones, light brown ones, black ones with yellow stripes. Long ones, short ones, baby ones, giant ones.

I only managed to take a photo of one, though. Wanted to take more, including squished ones (there were plenty of those, too) but the director called for me just after I had taken my first picture and I was put to work all the way right up until we left the place.

And then I was a milipede murderer for the rest of the day.

Actually, I can’t say for sure whether I did, or did not, murder any milipedes. But I had to skate on the road the whole morning and there were so many of them going about their merry way on the road, I could have just rolled over any number with no effort.

When I was off my skates, though, I always made sure to look on the ground and step around them carefully.

But despite the milipedes, the shoot was fun. I got to do my own stunts! Not rollerblading stunts, mind. I’m not good enough to do those without making a laughingstock of myself. But I was strapped to the outside of a moving lorry, I was knocked off the lorry, and I tumbled and rolled a few rounds on the road.

I didn’t know I had to do some stunts myself because I had a stuntman body double, so I didn’t do any warm ups. As a result, I am now aching a million places in my body. Even body combat class didn’t make me ache like that.

I also acquired two bruises.

The other bruise is at a place that can’t be shown publicly.

Fortunately, the place where I had to roll around and play comatose on was largely clear of milipedes because the lorry had already driven up and down the road a few times, creating a sizeable number of milipede deaths.

Yep, this is the leadup scene for the show in which I am comatose for five episodes.

I would have enjoyed the shoot much, much more if there hadn’t been any milipedes, and the rollerblades they gave me hadn’t been three sizes too big for me. But that’s just the story of my life.