Raid on mosquito farm

On a very hot day in August, maybe the 11th, someone put an inflatable kiddy pool up on a public patio. Understandable!

Now it’s 2 September and the thing was still sitting there and turning into a mosquito farm. Carp or salmon could have spawned in it by now and if that were the case, I might have left the pool in peace.

But I just emptied it.

I am very likely going to feel my back tomorrow – or maybe not – because there was a heck of a lot of water in it and I made several attempts to tip the thing over. I don’t know if I will be able to clean the thing as it is big and had gone very green by now. Tons of algae, the long thready slimy kind mostly. I did spray some disinfectant on it (and also on and into our rubbish bins; I felt sorry for the binmen when I opened the bins, as there was a really vile smell coming off one of them).

I ended up with a spider in my hair that apparently had been hiding under the pool’s edge and got interfered with by me. I seem to have carried it with me until I took a look in a mirror back in my flat after something swung into my face. I then returned the spider to where it came from.

I took the photo below on 27 August. It had gotten considerably greener by now. No mosquitoes as far as I could tell but an ichneumon wasp had gotten into it and a moth and likely some other critters as well.

Well, that is my good deed for the day. I’ll tackle the remainder later (likely tomorrow).

4 thoughts on “Raid on mosquito farm

  1. I’ve left a note on each of the three doors behind which the owners of the pool are likely located (as the pool was filled with a hose from above, coming from one of these three homes). I’ve asked them to remove the pool.

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    • Of course, nobody’s responded and we’re left with the mess. I’ll clean it up tomorrow. English people essentially usually don’t give a shit about anything whatsoever, do they? They’re like super-spoiled five-year-olds, dammit.

      And the effects of that they blame on people like me, the people whose numbers Priti Patel wants to reduce.

      It likely has more to do with the English being treated like five-year-olds, not being allowed to or not supposed to take any initiative and being supposed to behave like subjects, waiting for someone to tell them what to do and a resulting reluctance to care about anything?

      But on 8 September, a Dutch newspaper concluded that all human life always oscillates between the extremes of „I don’t give a fuck” and “Don’t be a dick”.

      I’ll cut up the pool, put in rubbish bags and bin it.

      Last week, I received a call from someone who had found a package that had been torn open and then discarded. It was a package for me. (In it was a book, my third purchased copy of “When cultures collide”, in used condition.) A lot of our mail gets thrown away. Not just mine, so it has nothing to do with me not being English. At the moment, I seem to be missing another package. At the moment, our package often get torn open to see what’s inside and then either disappear, get delivered or get thrown away. I don’t know which party (Royal Mail or some other company) is involved.

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  2. I also put in an order for materials needed to fix the front door and put up a note that I had placed an order and was going to fix the door. Now someone else has fixed the door that had been broken for months and whoever that was did not even have the decency to let me know about it.

    So I spent 20-25 bucks for materials (cut to size) that I can use when the glass gets kicked in again. (It’s too late to get the order cancelled. It’s been cut and is in quality control.) (From B&Q, I also purchased materials that I had already cut into the right sizes. I was waiting for the order to come in so that I could fix the damn door.)

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