Meet one of my new friends. That is, meet one of my late new friends, the Black Spiderhunter wasp. Does my apartment have a sign in the window - Find spiders here? And are there directions to a hole, invisible to the human eye, where these miniature monsters are getting in? Because I have screens, people, and screens are supposed to prevent my apartment from becoming infested with inch long big black wasps. "Up to 20 cm," my rear end. These are a good healthy inch long, and they tend to sally through the air, bumping noisily against the ceiling and scaring the daylights out of me.
Do not tell me that they just want to go outside. They should have thought of that before they came in. And do not tell me they aren't really a danger. Have you ever pissed a wasp off? Have you sat on one by accident? I have. It's an experience I don't plan to repeat anytime soon.
And so out comes the poison. Big can of Black Flag House & Garden that hasn't seen the light of day in about five years. And now, of course, I'm breathing the stuff in myself - which, I suppose is a kind of justice.
I'm curious, though. What goes through the wasp mind when it is wiggling its way into a tiny little opening somewhere around my windows? Is it just curious? Is there some kind of biological imperative that dictates it must crawl into all tiny available spaces? Or am I just mildly cursed?
I ask because the last couple of weeks have been a bizarre mixture of good and bad. I'm humming along, taking care of roughly three thousand teaching and business details (when I'm not working full time) and some of this is going splendidly, especially on the days when I get over four hours of unbroken sleep.
On the other hand, I broke my glasses a week ago, screwed my computer up, and while paying for Pizza on Friday night, I managed to drop $50 in the lobby of my building as I juggled purse and pizza box. Today, I was up at 6:00 - spent hours writing handouts for my beading classes, filing deskfill and paying bills. At 3:00 p.m. I emerge from the studio, looking forward to having a few hours downtime, only to find a living room full of wasps.
It's just stuff, right? It's not cancer and I'm not in Buffalo freezing after a freak snowstorm...but sometimes, don't you just get fed up when the stuff keeps coming?
Thank you for listening to me whine. The pity-party should end about the time I get the smell of Black Flag out of my nose.
Here's a little quiz for you! How big is that hornet? In inches? Grinning. Thanks to The Hermit Queen for notes.
9 comments:
I feel your pain! Well, I did, anyhow, ca. 1994, when I sold a house rather than fight a turf war with the wasps. They were coming in through the fireplace. The damper didn't close tightly. I hated the house anyway--it was the scene of the short-lived second marriage from hell. The wasps were merely representative.
Amazing, isn't it, that such mote-brained creatures have the audacity to infiltrate borders and steal someone else's spiders just because they're armed. Sheesh.
Wow Darkmind:
That's way better than what I do --smacking them out of the air with a book, stomping on them (with shoes on of course), and hollering things like "HA you little bastard! Try and reincarnate as something that never fucks with me!"
Preemptive macing... Hmmm...
Right, I'm going to start mixing that up in 100 litre batches.
-marko
Eeeugh! I always become very pissed off when a buzzy type creature gets into our house. Yes, I know the forest was here before us and hopefully will be in years to come.....but I still can't stand the little sods!
Is there anything other than "happy" polka music? (had to laugh at your musical tastes)
Thanks for your kind comment on the "boodlessness" blog. I had to bow out of that one--toomany people fighting their imaginary demons--seemed to me. I'll still comment tho
Winter setting in, gotta get a hobby.
Peace
I thought it was just the tropics or, um, Australia, that had insect problems on this scale. Where people needed screens to keep them out.
Not Canada.
I've learned something...
Jess. I keep wondering what the damn things symbolize...if they symbolize anything. Then I stop wondering because nothing I come up with is encouraging.
Darkmind. ?
Okay. Not only is that a great explanation for the insect-stupid, but a cure that won't kill me. And soon you are going to get the Shape Shifter of the Blog Universe award. (Or is that just the nerve toxins talking? I had the shakes for about two hours after I sprayed that stuff.)
You and me, Marko. All Action. Totally ineffective, but all action.
Herhimnbyrn..See Dark Minds organic answer to your bug problems! Does not involve killing! Wow.
Jamie. No spiders. The hornets just THINK there are spiders. And by the way, it's quiet over your way. Consider that a hint.
Goatman..Polka music does not make me happy. It's like an obnoxious clown yanking you to your feet and insisting you dance. He's wearing those big shoes, too.
And uh-huh...about the other and well, read my "about me" Pogo quote.
I really liked the quote you posted.
Mary..We got bugs. Black flies, mosquitos, hornets, bumble bees, wasps, silver fish, fleas, cockroaches and bedbugs. Thing is that mostly we don't have them in my apartment, so I'm not prepared for new roommates. Halifax is a fairly cool climate - but it can still hit the 90s here for spells. End of educational message.
Ps Word verification won't let me post on my OWN BLOG. I'm feeding it to the hornets.
You know, it IS very bohemian of you to keep pet spiders.
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