We are now on full, code red wasp alert. 20+ dead bummy furries hoovered up in the bedroom, one stung toe and a new awareness of the irritant force and sweet summer destruction that wasps produce as they (innocently) go about their business. That of course begs that eternal seasonal questions, "what's the point of wasps?" or "what was God thinking when he created them?" or "are wasps are in fact the Devil's own flying sperm" (I've never really heard that as a serious suggestion). The unprovoked wasp attack led to a few hours of cleaning, dusting and wasp's nest searching, alas no trace of one was found and we remain perplexed as to why they have chosen our bedroom as an appropriate place in which to die quietly. Little pests.
These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...
Sunday, July 04, 2010
Wasp alert
We are now on full, code red wasp alert. 20+ dead bummy furries hoovered up in the bedroom, one stung toe and a new awareness of the irritant force and sweet summer destruction that wasps produce as they (innocently) go about their business. That of course begs that eternal seasonal questions, "what's the point of wasps?" or "what was God thinking when he created them?" or "are wasps are in fact the Devil's own flying sperm" (I've never really heard that as a serious suggestion). The unprovoked wasp attack led to a few hours of cleaning, dusting and wasp's nest searching, alas no trace of one was found and we remain perplexed as to why they have chosen our bedroom as an appropriate place in which to die quietly. Little pests.
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