||| FLOTSAM & JETSAM BY MAURICE AUSTIN |||
We’ve got a bee in the house.
And yeah, it’s wavering about as if semi-drunk, and clunking headlong into walls and windows. They do that, once they warm up a bit.
I didn’t inspect the firewood closely enough, is the thing. They frequently hitch a ride on the pieces I bring from the outdoor pile to the indoor box, for the night’s fire. And then they warm up, perhaps even thinking they’re wanted—as if they’ve been plucked from chilliness to be warmed by a populism that justifies their existence as…well…toxic little creepies.
And about that “creepies” I do not jest. It’s one thing to find a folded-up damp yellow-jacket corpse at the bottom of the sink under the emptied can of Nalley Turkey Chile you left there for a few days, and another to catch a glimpse of the same little creepy-crawler walking up your sleeve, waveringly, at any minute to fall into your lap while trying to finalize your order of socks and undergarments on Amazon. Eek!
One ended up in my shower, sheesh. Noticed it before I stepped.
Another one wildly wove about me while shaving? Really? What is—
Another one directly smashed into my face, then disappeared for the rest of the night. Never saw it again. Where did it go? Is it waiting somewhere under my neglected fishing gear, ready to puncture an inquisitive digit, perhaps perforate a clueless groping hand? Has it recently tried to establish a Christian Nationalist law school, dedicated to unashamedly embracing a “biblical worldview?”
That itch on my hair just now—is it–?
The woodstove here brings the temperature up from the low fifties to the low seventies in a few hours, given a careful fire and remembering to turn on the ceiling fan. What it will never do is console me as to the tradeoffs, the flora and fauna associated with the care and feeding of a daily fire made of wood. Oil. Politicians. Heretics. Immigrants. Fill-In-The-Blanks.
Usually, I trap them between a piece of paper and a shot glass, and relocate them to further piles. Probably the birds benefit the most. I’ve learned to treat them with care. They sting, after all, as if that’s the only thing they’re meant for.
Beware, homeowner: they also build nests.
ok; you are talking about queen yellowjackets, not ‘bees’, right? different species. I love all bees, even when stung and reactive to their stings. I’ve no quarrel with them and I’ve never seen a bee hitch a ride inside on firewood. It’s always the yellow jackets who come in unvited.
You’re more empathetic than I. I see a queen yellow jacket and think, “500 to 1000 ++ more of the little buggers to make life miserable when she lays eggs and it’s July/August and they come out hungry and mean!” By Sept. I feel a little sorry for them – but not TOO sorry to see them go.
Strange, but I have more tenderness and compassion toward paper wasps. the two guards sting you once each – bam, bam! They don’t keep going – unless a person is idiotic enough to keep threatening them or their nest. And they don’t chase you relentlessly, like yellow jackets and hornets – but even those give up before yellow jackets.
If you consider ‘hive mind’ and how it operates some people, well… in humankind, I think they call that mass psychosis, mob mentality and the like. They are similar to yellow jackets. When they attack, it’s for the kill.
I won’t go down that rabbit hole any further. Thanks for the creepy read – now my skin is crawling too. Glad Halloween is over!