Meeting of the Flies

We have a staff meeting every Tuesday morning, usually about 10:30 or 11. It’s the only time all of us are in one place, catching each other up on maintenance issues, what the kitchen’s cooking up, weekend groups, retreats we’re planning for and miscellaneous things. Like most meetings, they have their boring moments. But ours nearly always have times of laughter. Although none were quite like this last one:

“Well, it was a really good weekend,” says Bill. “What is with all these flies?”

“It’s that time of year,” I said.

“Does anyone have a fly swatter?” Lisa asked, trying to protect her cups of coffee, tea and water.

“As I was saying, it was a good weekend…” Bill gives the report on Labor Day Weekend Family Camp where we had nearly 220 people all over camp, more than half of them children under the age of 15.

“Okay, Aaron, what do we have coming up?” Bill asks.

Aaron starts on his report when…SPLAT!

“Got him!” Lisa says, picking up the now dead fly and putting it in her empty tea cup.

Aaron continues on with the guest groups that will be using camp over the next few weeks. Meanwhile, two flies get in a fight and tackle each other on the table right next to me. Lisa slams them.

“Two!” Bill applauds as they get put in the open fly grave with the first victim.

Phil follows Aaron with reports on the new sidewalk, carpet cleaning and other things that need to be done before fall comes and winter quickly closes in on that.

SPLAT!

“Aw, you missed that one,” I told Bill.

“I’m working on it,” Bill says.

“My mom used to give us a nickel for every fly we killed this time of year,” I said. “My sister Grace would spend hours killing flies. She knew how to make some serious money.”

“And that’s everything I have,” Phil concludes.

“Okay, Melissa. You’re turn,” Bill says.

SPLAT! Another fly joins the open grave.

I finished up what I’m busy with in the office and next is Lisa’s turn, but first…

SPLAT!

I have never seen a fly spin like a top, but this one did – not quite dead. I think it may have overheard us discussing where the disco ball is for the Dads ‘n Daughters “Lights, Camera, Action!” dinner on Saturday. It wanted to try break dancing.

“What are you going to do with that?” Bill asks Lisa.

Lisa scoops it up, puts it in the open grave, grabs my empty cup and stuffs it into her cup, twisting it to ensure all the flies are now dead.

“That works,” Bill said.

And so our meeting continues…the casualty count ending at about eight or nine. And lots of running water and soap.

You know, it must be in the air. I don’t mean the flies. I mean killing insects. For later that afternoon, following a stray wasp in his office, Aaron found that some wasps are building a really nice nest in the blue fir tree just outside his office window. And today he decided to spray them with every can of wasp-killer we had.

Insects beware: stay clear of Camp Lebanon!