Appalachian Word of the Week -- MILLER

Ah, the front porch. A wonderful place to wile away the cares of the world. Whether you sway in the swing, recline in the glider, or in a rocker, the front porch is an important part of Appalachian life. You may even find a discarded davenport (couch/sofa) on the porch to provide extra seating for family or friends who drop by for a spell.

Porch light

But when twilight descends upon the mountains, drawing the lightning bugs and sundry other flying critters out of their hiding places, the front porch experience changes.

As soon as you flip the switch or pull the string to activate the porch light, every flying bug in the mountains comes buzzing to join you on the porch.

One of the least creepy fliers is the MILLER.

Example of a MILLER

They are drawn to the light like a moth to a flame. Well, it could be because that's exactly what a MILLER is -- a moth. Even though the term MILLER means moths in general, we used the term for the small moths that fluttered relentlessly around the lightbulb.

At least they don't bite like gnats and mosquitos. They are merely annoying as they flutter past your face on their way. If you swat one, you end up with a swipe of pale-colored powder on your clothing or skin from their wings.

The lightbulb tends to acquire a dusting of their powdery wings, too, as they smash into it. I never understood why a MILLER insisted upon crashing into the light. Just what was it that attracted them so?

As an introvert, I've often compared myself to the front porch light.

An introvert lightbulb being
swarmed by
extrovert MILLERS

As soon as I feel comfortable (in the dark) and walk into a room full of people (turn on my light), it seems that every extrovert in the room flies to me, fluttering around me and smashing into me.
Apparently, they consider my quiet, calm attitude toward life to be a failing and believe their lot in life is to re-create me into an extrovert just like them. I desperately attempt to turn off my light and retreat from their attention.

In reality, all they do is wear me out and leave a powdery residue on me. A residue that makes me less eager to turn on my light again.

And then there are the crazies. Those are the MILLERS on steroids. They're the ones who refuse to leave you alone and desire to control your life. Scary.

Did you have MILLERS on your front porch? Do you have MILLERS in your life that annoy you like a MILLER?

I'd love to hear your stories.