We went on a railroad ride in the Ulster Mountains (the Catskills), an excursion from the riverboat cruise on the Hudson River we’re currently on.
I imagine this train is great as the Polar Express with children and entertainers singing, but as a ride for a bunch of oldies whose average age, when you consider myself, Beloved, and my sister, is still north of 85, maybe a bit rough.
Four of the carriages are open air, and seating consists of flat wood benches – only one of the four have benches with backs to them. It’s a little harsh on the ole bumbum but they do have two indoor carriages with proper seats.
And windows that do not open.
We hung out with the backless benches, as all the backed ones were already taken. That’s okay, backless afforded a better view as you could twist around and see the other side.
Trees. Lots o’ trees.
And an enormous bug that landed on my leg. AAAAACK! I flicked it off and no idea where it went.
On the return trip, the bug reappeared on the handrail.
Doing a dance.
Bug: 为女士们做准备…今天是星期六，我要去寻找些爱
Me: What?
Beloved: I didn’t say anything.
Bug: 我的舞步很流畅！
Me: that damn bug is back. And it’s dancing.
Beloved: wow. That thing’s big.
My sister: is that a spotted lanternfly? If it is, kill it!!
Me: I look like an entomologist? Maybe if it wanted to discuss finance, that’d be cool, but shit if I know what it is.
Beloved, looking at her cellphone: it… is… a… spotted… lanternfly.
My sister: KILL IT!
Bug:等等，你是在说我吗？
Me: Damn, I wish MaeMae were here. I have no idea what’s going on.
(For those who haven’t read my prior blogs, the cat (MaeMae) has a seemingly endless understanding of foreign languages. So, weirdly, do the dogs. I have no idea how, but she’s quite rude about our inability to speak them.)
Bug: 这是怎么回事？
Granny: Don’t kill it! We’re in its home…
Me: this from the woman who cheered MaeMae on as she hunted gophers?
My sister: It’s an invasive insect from China… we’re supposed to stomp on them on sight. They’re annihilating crops like apples. We are NOT in its home.
Bug: Excuse me? I was born here!
Quick as a wink, my sister had her shoe untied and <<whomp>> clocked the poor bastard one.
However, it didn’t die… but it fell off the handrail.
As the train kept trundling, in the distance, a small voice: seriously? You broke my leg!
Getting back on the boat, she spied another one. I didn’t know what was going on, but turned around to see my sister stomping with the ferocity of a middle school boy attempting to make a ketchup packet explode.
Other passenger: Jeesh. What’d that thing ever do to you?
Never one to pass up the opportunity to educate, she expounded on the evils of these bugs. The states where it’s infiltrated are trying to get people to stomp on them on sight, as they’re awful to grapes, apples, all kinds of woody crops. They suck the sap out of the plants then poop a sugary mess which attracts wasps and turns moldy. Ech.
Examining Misadventures 