歪歪漫画

As fall approaches, in our neighborhood appear to be increasing, which is bad news for someone like me who has a grasshopper phobia.

Phobia may sound like a strong word, but it accurately describes my unreasonable fear of and aversion to grasshoppers, but it鈥檚 not too far off.

Ever since I can remember, I have been afraid of grasshoppers, which, when you grow up on a grain farm, causes a lot of anxiety.

I know my fear of grasshoppers is not rational nor is it in character. I can pick up garter snakes, frogs and toads without blinking an eye. I even tolerate vermin, such as mice and rats as long as they keep their distance.

Ann Bailey / Agweek

Ann Bailey / Agweek

Grasshoppers, though, frighten me to the point of, at the least, a sharp intake of breath, but often, screaming when they jump on me. There鈥檚 something about the way they look and feel when they land on me that makes me cringe.

That presented a dilemma when I was growing up on the farm and during harvest season delivering meals to the field for my dad and brother. Our vehicles weren鈥檛 air conditioned so I had to decide whether it was better (or worse) to leave the windows open and stay relatively cool or risk grasshoppers riding with me.

My solution was to spread the pain 鈥� I kept the windows closed and suffered in the heat until I couldn鈥檛 take it anymore, then briefly opened them to let in the air, before frantically rolling them up. Sometimes when a few grasshoppers landed next to me, I had to drive using one hand while leaning as far in the opposite direction as I could.

That driving posture wasn鈥檛 dangerous when I was in the field where there was plenty of room to maneuver. It didn鈥檛 matter if I drove erratically 鈥� unless I was near the combine, of course.

After I pulled to a stop, I shooed the hoppers out of the vehicle with whatever tool was handy. A windshield scraper, broom or glove did the trick. Then I quickly got back inside the vehicle and prayed that was the end of that, at least for the day.

Jenny Schlecht / Agweek

The worst grasshopper incident I can recall, though, didn鈥檛 occur in a field. It happened when I was driving my dad鈥檚 pickup truck down the road to a neighbor鈥檚 house. I can鈥檛 remember why I had the window open, but I can vividly recall the result of that. A grasshopper flew in the cab and landed behind my back.

The grasshopper, which was in between me and the seat, didn鈥檛 want to move and I was helpless to do it. My only recourse was to yell at my sister, Bonnie, who was a passenger in the car, to remove it. She didn鈥檛 like touching grasshoppers, either, so my command fell on deaf ears.

I 鈥渟olved鈥� my dilemma by moving as far forward on the seat as I could and drove squished against the steering wheel until we got to the neighbor鈥檚 house. I then threw open the door of the pickup and bounded out, leaving the grasshopper still clinging to the back of the seat.

My heart still pounding, I found something I could use to chase it out of the pickup and then went about my task of feeding the neighbor鈥檚 dogs and cats. All the while I gave my sister the evil eye and a lecture about shirking her responsibility to remove the grasshopper when I told her to.

I wasn鈥檛 surprised that the lecture fell on deaf ears. My credibility was low because I wouldn鈥檛 have removed it if the situation was reversed.

Thankfully, I manage to keep my distance from grasshoppers most of the time, now.

If I鈥檓 walking down a gravel road, I can usually avoid them by staying in the center. The grasshoppers usually are in the grass in the ditch on either side so they don't come in contact with me.

I keep our air-conditioned vehicles windows closed when I drive down the road or in a field. If I make eye contact with grasshoppers it鈥檚 through the windshield, and with a flick of my wrist, I can turn the wipers on and dispatch them. That gives me only a mild twinge, and given my past interactions, it鈥檚 not one of even the tiniest feelings of guilt.

Ann Bailey lives on a farmstead near Larimore, N.D., that has been in her family since 1911. You can reach her at 218-779-8093 or abailey@agweek.com.