Vicki Edwards - Bugs in My Freezer

Bugs in my Freezer

& Other Tales from an Entomologist's Wife

Copyright 2001 By Vicki Edwards

ISBN 1-58495-780-8

Electronically published in arrangement with the author

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Although some of the names in this book are real, permission has been given for their names to be included.

All information in this book is from the author's own words and DiskUs Publishing accepts no responsibility for the validity of the information.

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Dedicated to Dennis Edwards, my bug man

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Acknowledgments:

To our friends in the bug business, and to those who like us in spite of our six-legged pets, thanks for the chuckles. Life truly is stranger than fiction.
Terry Dove
Gordon James
Mr. & Mrs. Mike Bonner
Mr. & Mrs. K. Duane Biever
Greg Paulson and Jim for contributing their stories.

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Bugs in My Freezer

& Other Tales from an Entomologist's Wife

Introduction

Women are known for their own accomplishments today. It may seem peculiar, therefore, for me to write about my life from the focal point of what my husband does for a living. But certain callings influence one's life more dramatically than others. For instance, the wife of an astronaut has more to be concerned with than traffic on the highway when her husband travels. And she may have an exciting career of her own, but about what do you think people most often converse with her? I think you can see my point. So here I am--married to an entomologist.

The first hurdle for me in any casual conversation is the standard question, "And what does your husband do?" Over my 20 years of marriage, I have developed several responses to that question. If I want to impress someone, I simply say, "He's a scientist." If I have a lot of time to explain, I tell them that he is an entomologist. Fewer than 50 percent of the pool of inquirers I have encountered know what an entomologist is. I usually respond to the puzzled looks with the comment, "A bug man." Then the fun begins.

For those with good imaginations, images of spider man or the human fly may spring to mind. For others, pest control commercials may be the only mental connection. Many inquirers have been dumbfounded by the notion that someone could actually earn a living studying insects-who would pay for such a thing? What would he do all day?

I have also met some curious individuals who have wondered out loud what type of person might be drawn into a lifetime of insect study. Some smirk, no doubt imagining an unkempt young man with net slung over one shoulder, tape holding together the frames of his glasses and a Bic collection stuffed in his shirt pocket. Well, to those of you who choose to judge and stereotype in this fashion I have one thing to say. Yes, some entomologists do fit that description. Yet the professional membership of the ESA (Entomology Society of America) includes all genders, temperaments, and personality types. Some entomology professionals did start out with a childhood fascination with insects. Others may have chosen entomology after failing their medical school exams. Anyway, I can vouch for the fact that many entomologists are regular people. In fact, if you saw one on the street without his or her sweep net or collection jars, you probably would not be able to distinguish him or her from a plumber or an air traffic controller. Some are even athletic. My husband played on a baseball team with his entomology department cohorts in college. They were great at catching flies.

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Chapter One: Living with Bugs

My family is basically a normal American family. Really, we are. Oh, don't drink that... I know it looks like tea, but it's mosquito eggs. It's my daughter's science fair experiment. As I was saying, we are just your average all-American family. Oh these earrings? Thank you. I like them too. They are the cocoons from caddisfly larvae. Can I get you a cold drink? Help yourself to the ice. What? Oh, what's that beside the frozen orange juice concentrate? Well my husband hasn't gotten around to pinning those yet. Just a few beetles and a crane fly. No. I promise-there are no insects in the ice cubes. Feel free to look for yourself.

Romance and the bug man...

Twenty years ago, I married a man who was studying to be a game warden. When he had a change of heart and chose entomology for his life's vocation, I had no idea what adventures lie in store. We were newlyweds during his early entomology years. We enjoyed hikes and nature and picnics. One Sunday afternoon we packed an old-fashioned basket with chicken, lemonade, rolls and slaw and headed for a nearby park. The sky was blue and the air was warm and breezy. After our lunch, we took a walk. We strolled along, his hand in mine. His other hand was holding a jar, just in case an interesting insect should cross our path. After a while, we met up with a couple of fellow entomology students out searching for specimens for their collections. The collections would be graded on variety, as well as number of insects. Some types of insects, I was to learn, are harder to find and therefore of greater worth to the ambitious student.

As we walked, we came near a dead dog. I naturally stepped away from the unfortunate animal. My husband and his fellow students, however, failed to see the vile carcass that I saw. Instead they saw a treasure chest of unique and elusive insects. As they hovered over the dog's decaying flesh, admiring and picking off choice specimens for their collections, I realized that romance and life would be different for me than I what I had expected.

Keeping perspective

When my husband first stepped onto his career path, he passionately searched for insects for his collection. One of his favorite ways to kill an insect is to put it in a container, then put it in the freezer. Insects slow down when they get cold, then die without damaging themselves and therefore their value as a collection specimen. I was not happy about sharing my freezer space with creatures that my mother had taught me had no place in the kitchen. Oddly enough, there was another entomologist who attended our church. I was visiting with his wife one day and asked if she ever grew tired of having insects in her freezer. She told me that she used to think it was awful. Then she met the wife of a pathologist, who had a human foot in her freezer.

"With" or "Without"

We moved to west Texas for my husband's graduate school training in entomology. There, we experienced the joy of Tex/mex cuisine. We visited all of the local restaurants, and slowly acquired a taste for hotter and hotter foods. I mention this as an explanation as to why, when we went to an entomology department picnic, I assumed that the delicious-looking appetizers displayed in two separate serving dishes labeled "with" and "without" were being described in terms of their relative spiciness. Feeling like a fully acclimated southwesterner, and being very hungry to boot, I did not hesitate when my husband offered me a bite of his egg roll-type appetizer, taken from the "with" dish. Just as I had taken a bite, he looked at me with twinkling eyes and proclaimed, "You've just eaten your first bug!"

Indeed I was to learn that the featured food du jour was southwestern corn borer larvae. I have been told that the corn borer larvae also bake up into a nice casserole. I am happy to report that, although there is ample nutritional value in certain insects, the entomologists' families whom we know do not regularly stock insects in their pantries. And although I suffered no ill effects from my bug eating experience, I remain ever suspicious of egg rolls.