I think I approach life a little too carelessly sometimes. I think it is a good thing that most of the time I find out how ill-advised some of my schemes are after the fact, so I can take them as a little life lesson without getting hurt or maimed in whatever way.

Let’s take this morning as an example. A couple weeks ago, L. and I were walking to the Department office (for those out of the loop, my office is in a log cabin several hundred metres away from the main college building until our flood damaged space is repaired). On the way, we saw a giant beetle thing on the ashphalt. It was really kind of scary, but cool. It was a dull greenish brown, with praying mantis like front legs and it was about 2.5″ long. I didn’t think much of it except that it looked a lot like a water bug of some kind.

So on we continued and I forgot about it.

This morning, the university is dead because it is reading week. I had to run into the Department office to pick up my mail and some assignments that had been dropped off. On the way, I noticed a whole bunch more of those beetles, some that had been squashed (their internal organs are really green!).

I am heading off to a conference tomorrow to Friday, and I will be seeing my former master’s supervisor and also my advisor. My advisor’s daughter loves bugs (or did when I was doing my master’s) so I thought I would get one of these beetles to take to her.

I was going to walk back to the perfect one that I saw, instead of one of the squished ones, but on my way back across the parking lot to my office I saw one that looked pretty intact. I thought its maxillary palps were broken off, but when I poked it and it moved I could see they were just folded backwards.

So I poked it, trying to flip it over, and then finally I scooped it onto the assignments I was holding and carried it in to my office. I then picked it up and put it in a small jar I had been keeping here for whatever reason.

Then I decided to look up what it was. Turns out it is a water beetle, a Giant Water Bug. To be precise, a Lethocerus americanus. This site has some interesting things to say about them:

Adults are large (2 to 2-1/2 inches long), brownish, somewhat flattened, and broad with the middle and hind legs fitted for swimming. The front legs are fitted for grasping (praying mantis-like) with two claws at the tips. The end of the abdomen bears two short, strap-like appendages for breathing. The head is broad and slightly extended beyond the eyes. They are very much attracted to lights and are known as “electric light bugs.” Sometimes they leave the water and fly to street lights some distance away. These bugs feed on other insects, snails, tadpoles and small fish (sometimes several times their size). They inject a poisonous fluid into their prey after capture, sucking them dry. They occur in ponds and quiet pools, feigning death when removed from the water and ejecting a fluid from the anus. Death is quick if not able to return to the water. Eggs are laid in massed rows of 100 or more above the water on cattails and other plants, hatching one to two weeks later. They are vicious biters, inflicting pain when handled carelessly.

So me picking this thing up and messing around with it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I guess I wasn’t careless enough because I didn’t get bitten, but I should have probably checked this out first.

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I feel like I am in Stephen King’s The Mist now. A huge wall of silvery mist has just blown in and fallen all around me. It is rather eerily quiet here as well, no one is in yet, so I am rocking out to Megadeth on my computer (I found some of my old CDs from high school and I am overwhelmed by nostalgia for my teenage metalhead days) and trying to get marking done.

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