“Oh, what a beautiful morning” or “Houston, I have a problem”
This morning, when the ”heat was on”, the lake smooth as a ballroom floor and it was just me and my red kayak out there slowly drifting through the water, it was close at hand to start humming “Oh what a beautiful morning, ….”.
Yesterday, on the other hand, was quite another day, when it was closer to allude to Apollo 13’s crew and their call from outer space down to Earth: “Houston, we have a problem”.
Yes, Houston, I have a problem too, a wasp problem, and on top of that I don’t have a control center that can respond and assist me. My son and grandchildren have just left and returned back to Stockholm and Roffe, my devoted husband, is somewhere in Finland near the Russian border to shoot bears and wolves. No, not rifle shooting, just shooting with the camera.
My problem appeared this morning when I opened the greenhouse for the usual morning routine, to greet my plants and “ruffle their hair.” Someone told me the ruffling would help the pollination along!
Inside, there was a nice summery buzzing from insects but no matter how I looked around, I could not see whether bumblebees or bees. On the way out, however, I discovered the source of the buzz. A large wasp nest was under construction on the ceiling above the entrance. And believe me, they were many who apparently planned to move in when it was finished!
I did not want to use toxic insect spray inside the greenhouse, instead I went for the water hose and tried to shoot down the nest and kill / drown the little creatures with a hard water jet. To tell the truth, this was not a successful strategy at all, though. It just made those black and yellow bastards aware of me and preparing counterattacks as soon as I tried to approach the greenhouse.
The whole day went by and all I could do was watching how my plants slowly wilted in the heat due to lack of water. There was only one thing left to do now. I had to start a war. So while the rest of you probably were glued to the TV watching The Netherlands vs Argentina, I covered myself from head to toe, gloves and rubber boots on and last but not least that old mosquito hat that was purchased for a mountain hike ages ago. Then a firm grip on the water hose, shove it up into the nest and spray, spray, spray and then run for my life.
After three or four attacks with the water hose the nest was finally gone, dissolved in little gray tears.The wasps that did not die drowning seemed to have fled the field.
Well, did this brave soldier get any memorable war injuries? Yes, a sting in the thumb (despite the gloves) from an angry wasp, but nothing serious and nothing that a little ointment made from spruce tree resin couldn’t soothe