After mopping the floor yesterday, I somehow had the idea that the invasion was over. I guess partially due to not seeing any 'active' ones when I had the mop in hand. Apparently convinced that if they are not still wiggling - the end is in sight.
Wrong. When I went in the kitchen this morning, there were sixteen moving about, in random directions, but appearing to all have a destination in mind, focused on some internal guidance system that directed dozens of legs to go forth. Sadly, they did not know they were all headed to the 'water ride' that would take them circling around and around into the unknown. Sort of a combination of the Lazy River and Space Mountain.
Along with the newest crop of millipedes, I also swept up three roly-poly bugs and two miscellaneous that I could not identify. The good news there: they were already deceased. I do not like roaches At All, but have long ago made peace with the knowledge they are a fact of life for a house that is so surrounded with trees and leaf mulch. I can tolerate the idea that they will eventually figure out how to get in the house, especially when the weather changes from anything to something else: hot to cold, wet to dry - whatever motivates a cockroach. But as long as the ones I am seeing inside are dead, I don't mind the corpses. Just don't want to find them where we are in a co-habitation situation. Ick to that.
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