To quote my good friend bluesimplicity, "I'm so not a bug person!" In my opinion they totally RUIN the great outdoors. I would spend more time in parks, walking by the ocean or just plain sitting on my deck if I didn't have to become an instant object of interest and /or dinner for an assortment of bugs. The other night, I surprised a huge, bulbous, striped beetle that was trying its darnedest to come and live inside my kitchen garbage can. It had crawled in through the open deck door and had laboriously scaled the heights of the trash can, only to find the portal to heaven closed tight. So there it waited for the window of golden opportunity that would be provided when I next needed to toss something in the garbage. I believe I did that several times without noticing it, and each time it tried to haul its unwieldy body up over the lip. The thing that made me finally notice it was the repeated hisses of pain it produced when I invariably let the lid slam down on its two front legs. "Why is the garbage hissing?" thought I, knowing that it can never be a good thing if one's garbage is hissing, and went to investigate. What ensued was a power struggle between the beetle and me, which the beetle lost because I am not the sort of person who gives way to panic in the presence of a bug, even large ambitious ones that are waving their legs at me in a vaguely threatening manner. Once the beetle had been restored to its rightful home in the dirt outside my house, I went back and double checked the garbage just to make sure that the wife and kids hadn't sneaked in while daddy-beetle had been creating his little diversion. All I can say is that that beetle was lucky it was me who discovered him and not Fluffy, who would have tortured him in an icky trail of bug-guts all over the kitchen.