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19 Feb 07 - 08:54 PM (#1973151) Subject: BS: Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day From: John Hardly My wife (bless her heart) was getting the lawnmower out of the old wooden shed that sat, without suitable foundation, right on the dirt. That's no way to build a shed, but, in my defense, the shed was there when I bought the property. I would have done the proper thing and put the shed up on cinder blocks. Like my cars. But I digress. So, my wife came into the shop whining about a big bumble bee that had nested under the shed and wouldn't let her get near the shed door. She could not retrieve the lawnmower. After I did the appropriate roll of the eyes that indicated my male superiority and greater understanding of my dominion over the natural world (I may have sighed audibly as well so as to make sure that she knew -- in the event that she had failed to notice the roll of the eyes -- that I was being put out to have to help her get ready to cut the grass)…. …I got up from the wheel and dried my hands as I explained to her that, "Bees are not aggressive. If you simply ignore them, they will just leave you alone." Then I grabbed the flyswatter that hung by the door, doubting that I'd need a weapon, but caution, preparedness, valor – something along those lines vaguely occurred to me. Thus armed, I walked out back to take care of bee business. The sucker flew directly at me. I mean, he flew AT me. DIRECTLY at me. He meant business and I was unprepared. I don't know what it's called when you do the opposite of ducking – wherein you jerk your head back REAL quickly -- but that's what I did first. The backwards duck. Then I darted to the side, flailing at the air with the flyswatter, swinging it with the macho flair of a young girl swinging a badminton racket. Really, not even that much macho. And no flair. Now the thing was still coming at me -- at one time darting directly toward my bare legs, the next time buzzing upwards at my face again. This up and down tack the bumble bee had employed had me alternately ducking my head, then whipping it back away from the charging beast, all the while kicking my legs backward to avoid allowing it to land on my legs. This little dance of mine began with me spinning in a circle, all the while trying desperately to keep my eyes on the bee so that I could continue to dodge it. Eventually I began to run …… backwards -- eyes still on the bee -- across the yard and hopefully away from the bee's home. The bee did not stop its pursuit. It continued to go at face and leg. I continued to backpedal. And cuss. A lot. As I was backpeddling, the bee seemed to be easily able to keep up with me. I finally decided that I had come to the point where I might be able to take the risk and make the strategic move to turn around and actually run full speed away from the thing. I summoned up the courage to finally turn around. That was just about exactly where the mailbox stands at the edge of our yard. Well…….not "just about". It was exactly where the mailbox stands. Stood. That's where the mailbox stood. At least until I hit it full speed and spinning ahead. The mailbox and I went down HARD. I hurt. I won't say exactly where the mailbox hit me. And don't point out to me that it was actually me who did the hitting. That kind of "pointing out" is called "insult to injury". And the injury was bad enough. – I was left with two bruised "things" and not a shred of dignity. After I recovered a bit, I went inside. There was still a yard to be cut, a lawnmower to be retrieved, and, as God is my witness, a bumblebee to kill. As I remember that day, it was a summer day and the temps were every bit of the upper eighties. I came out of the house with sweatpants OVER my jeans, a sweatshirt OVER a long-sleeved flannel shirt, a hat (balaclava that covers the face), gloves, a scarf, my old glasses (a fashion of the 70's – HUGE lenses that covered a good portion of my face). There was not a square inch of skin showing anywhere on me. And I was carrying a can of wasp and hornet spray – the kind that shoots in a stream. I killed it. When it's man vs. nature, is there ever really any doubt? |
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19 Feb 07 - 09:02 PM (#1973156) Subject: RE: BS: Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day From: Sorcha LOLOLOL! Around here it's yellow jackets. Not nice critters! |
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20 Feb 07 - 11:36 AM (#1973771) Subject: RE: BS: Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day From: Liz the Squeak Nope... No doubt at all... Mother Nature will get up and bite you on the ass any day of the week! Thanks for the laugh! Hope the er... dignity is better! LTS |
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20 Feb 07 - 11:40 AM (#1973780) Subject: RE: BS: Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day From: wysiwyg Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day Well, we were having winter nostalgia, in this unseasonably-warm winter, until the St. Valentine's Day When the Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day hits us, we just get out all the camping accoutrements that are not stored in the camper, and set them around for, I dunno, a wienie roast or whatnot. One year we even pitched a tent in front of the switched-on gas fireplace. Hardi's been known to do some indoor flycasting as well, in the parish hall. ~Susan |
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20 Feb 07 - 05:26 PM (#1974167) Subject: RE: BS: Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day From: LilyFestre Ahhhhhhhhhhhh summer. I never was a summer kind of gal, at least not until I got my kayak. My favorite summer day (from last year) to daydream about took place late on a Sunday afternoon. It was still pretty warm out and RidgePlucker and I decided to take advantage of the extended daylight. We went to a nearby state park, he with his flyfishing gear and me with my kayak. When we arrived, the park was empty. No one on the water. The pool at the entrance of the park was already closed. No one having a picnic. Nada. I slipped the kayak into the water, checked for my camera, waved goodbye to my love and off I went. One of my favorite things to do is to paddle along the shore, near the marshy parts or underneath the canopy. Why? It's not for fear of being in the deeper waters but rather for the joy of spotting wildlife. On this particular evening, the water was very still and so warm. I set out across the lake and up around the bend when I spotted the first heron. He saw me too and after scolding me heartily he set off across the lake from the pines to the marshes. I followed, slowly, doing my best to not startle him again. This time I watched him stand in the shallows, silently shifting his weight and neck until he found a frog or some other delicacy. He flew off again and I followed once more. He landed high in a pine tree looking right at me and growling (yes, they can growl) so I took my leave. I paddled out to the middle of the lake and was scanning the tree tops, enjoying the rocking motion of the boat and the warm summer breeze when I saw him. There, in a dead tree, almost sitting at the very top of the bare branches was a bald eagle. I had never seen one in real life. I'd spotted a few immature bald eagles a week or two earlier at a different park, but had only spied them due to their call. He was absolutely stunning and I could barely move. Eventually I paddled in for a closer look and was able to take some photos and even some video as he flew from the one side of the lake to the other, calling as he went. He landed in another barren tree and was content to let me sit and stare at him. I never understood what all the hype was about these birds but on this summer evening, it finally made sense to me. I paddled back to shore as the sun was setting and watched at a distance as the man I love was having the time of his life catching fish after fish. I joined him on the shore, shared my story, showed him the video and did a little fishing of my own. It was the kind of day that I wanted to last forever. Spring will be here soon and I am anxious to begin watching nature's ways unfold into a new summer season of exploration. LQF **By the way, there's no need for Hardi to practice casting his fly line inside, the Tioga River is open and has some great winter fishing! |
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20 Feb 07 - 08:38 PM (#1974410) Subject: RE: BS: Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day From: John Hardly LQF, Bring on summer! Sounds like a perfect day. |
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20 Feb 07 - 10:45 PM (#1974492) Subject: RE: BS: Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day From: Bee John Hardly, that was hilarious, though I wish you'd spared the poor Bee (sniff!). Me, I was in the grocery store looking at those gimongous Californis strawberries, very beautiful but without the faintest taste of strawberries as they should be, and dreaming of the end of June when warm, handpicked ripe sweet local field berries make gluttons of us all.... mmmmmmmstrawberryshortcake... |
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21 Feb 07 - 11:41 AM (#1974998) Subject: RE: BS: Summer Nostalgia on a Cold Day From: John Hardly "...gimongous Californis strawberries, very beautiful but without the faintest taste of strawberries as they should be..." SAOs (strawberry-appearing objects) |