Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

A gentle reminder to those of you in the Mid-Atlantic region who are tired of the sham plague and ready for something new: The 17-year cicada cycle is about to burst on us again.

Yes, Brood IX is back!

Ol’ Robbo still remembers quite clearly the day when the cicadas emerged 17 years ago.  I was standing one hot Saturday morning on the back porch of Port Swiller Manor drinking my kawfee when I suddenly became aware of a noise that I at first mistook for somebody’s car alarum off in the distance.  It wasn’t, however, but instead was the combined clatter of thousands of the critters suddenly waking up.  I also remember that after a while (it went on for a couple weeks, if I recall correctly) the incessant noise started to make me feel rayther nutty.  I wasn’t even under house arrest at that time – what it’ll be like this go round will be very interestink indeed.

Funny enough, another clear memory I have from last time was coming home from the office one afternoon.  The cicadas don’t really fly around very much during the day but there are always a few fluttering between the trees.  I was driving up the Gee-Dub and saw a car coming the other way, a small convertible like a Triumph or an MG.  Behind the wheel was an enormously tall chappy, so tall that the top of his head stuck up well above the windshield.  “What’s it going to feel like if he takes one of those things right to the forehead at 60 mph?” I remember thinking to myself.

Oh, and then there was the yardwork:  Running them over in their hundreds while mowing the yard is just plain gross but unavoidable.

Well, as for this time around, while the emergence appears to be delayed because of the relatively cool spring we’ve had so far, of course there’s no real way of getting out of it.  I amused myself at dinner last evening making Eldest and Youngest Gels’ skin crawl over what they’re in for.  (Eldest is old enough to remember the last wave with horror and disgust while Youngest was only a toddler at the time.)  It’ll be interesting to see what Decanter Dog makes of them, too.  And although we now have a screened porch where we did not last time, I’m sure a few will winkle their way on to it, leading to constant calls for Ol’ Dad to come and deal with things.  Perhaps I can train the kitteh to attack them for me?