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An exercise in how to comfortably get away with murder

We find no real pleasure in distorting the carefully constructed perception of Les Pierres as a sacred sanctuary for all things living by celebrating their beauty and praising their purpose, but when brute demons get dealt the upper hand, even the peace pedestaling pacifists we pretend to be cannot repudiate the large-scaled massacre currently taking place in front of our treasured cottage.

Having our luxurious lilac tree painstakingly stripped of its bark by preceding peers constructing their not so humble abode with it, seriously weakening it if not ending it prematurely, had already pissed us off enough to call in murderous auxiliaries, like cowards washing their hands in guiltlessness, claiming the inevitability of the intervention as an exercise in how to comfortably get away with murder.

This seems to randomly happen to a different species of agitators every year. Until now we’ve had to endure immense invasions of oak processionary caterpillars, box tree moths and devil or stinky bugs, all of which unleashed unpalatable feelings in us for sure, but in incomparable scale to the hornets presently feasting on the fruit of our decorative grape vine. Not only do they hinder the access to the house by drunkenly falling into our hair when passing, they prevent all cooling ventilation options from happening, turning the place into a sauna.

Being dominated by compulsively magnified wasps, not the most indistinct animal species imaginable, became unexpectedly our starting position for this promising Indian summer, compellingly driving us towards homicidal inclinations again. No visible nests this time, so we had to place traps, putting the calamities right in front of the window and thereby their suffering on display twenty four seven, in a never-ending spin of death because now they keep coming.

Exposed for the barbarians we have proven to be, we shamefully dilute judgment by diverting attention towards the friendlier ways of pest control we also apply, like the sumptuously blooming French Marigolds in our veggie garden that use their pungent scent to keep all sorts of intruders away, all the while exhibiting their sprawling beauty.

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