It started day before yesterday. Been counting dead cockroaches ever since.  

Papa Jim is on his "Attacking Insects" campaign.  He wages war on a semi-regular basis with mosquitoes, cockroaches, and anything else that inadvertently gets in the way of his spray apparatus.  He's developed this whole outfit over the years, complete with a Darth Vader type mask.  You should see him all decked out.  It's priceless.  (Maybe I should take a picture.) 

Tomorrow is the final day.  There's only our room, the library, the storage room, living room, powder room, downstairs bedroom, and bathroom left to go.  He's getting an early start in the morning in order to be completely done long before noon.  

That's when all ten of our fans will be set to run on high, every door, and every window will be opened wide. That tell-tell insecticide odor must be gone before late afternoon.  A big group is coming in for a three day conference.  

We're pretty good at what we do.  We have this down to a science.  Unless you tell, they will never know what we've been doing in these days.  Even those dead cockroaches, laying on their backs, with their pathetic legs up in the air, will be carefully  disposed of.  

It's just another normal day at Shiloh.