The back yard here is known to be absolutely covered in fleas. Walk through, just once, and the little black critters will be all over your shoes, socks, feet, whatever is near the ground, walking upward.
A few days ago I made it to Safeway and Rite-Aid, bought coffee for Michael and Borax for the back yard. Per instructions on a Canadian flea control website I sprinkled the Borax on the ground with a seed spreader. Michael happened to come home that evening. He wasn't sociable but it was good to have coffee around.
The following day I sprinkled the Borax on the ground, with a followup yesterday. I found the dog trapped in the garage, let him out and gave him food and water, both of which he finished overnight.
The dog needs food but usually when I feed him I get a leg full of fleas. The pattern has become to feed the dog, strip on the way back in, throw the clothes in the washer and the body in the shower.
Today: no clothes, no fleas, no wash load. Happier dog, happier human. I'm off to shower anyway because, well, I saved that for after the trip to the back yard.
Next flea project: the garage.
If only I could sprinkle Borax on Gwendolyn Cook and make her go away. Picture the slug in Meet The Feebles after being asked to test the coke, dissolving into a puddle of bubbling goo on the floor.