Two days ago, the number of stink bugs on the porch was halved. Yesterday, halved again. This morning, there were only five or six of the little stinkies. While in my heart, I believe this is due to the end of a hatching cycle, I like to think that my attempts at buggy genocide with the wand of death (as I like to refer to my hand vac) were at least contributory to the dwindling population.
In the afternoon, we can look up at the skylights, and they won't be crawling with a stink bug infestation. When I take my paper and coffee out in the morning, I won't first be vacuuming up little, dead crusts. God's creatures are a wonderful thing, but, well, stink bugs? I mean, I ask you.