So I had an accident today. There was a fatality. It wasn't me (obviously) - it was my iPhone.
You gotta understand I sort of have a history in that department - I have dealt more death blows to small electronic devices than a normal person. (I also should not be trusted with office machines - especially fax machines, very bad karma with fax machines.) In the course of one month in medical school I dropped not one but THREE pagers into the toilet. Deader than doornails. My first iPhone, I sent through the washer. I tried all kinds of creative solutions - I packed it in rice, put it in a low oven, nothing. Dead. Then we had our one hot week that August, like 115 degrees one day, and I happened to leave my poor dead phone in the truck, where it was probably more like 150 degrees. When I got in my truck after office that day, voila! The iPhone sprang to life! Not having learned my lesson whatsoever, I managed to soak the stupid phone while watering the lawn and went through the whole thing all over again.
Today, however, my techno-destructive tendencies reached new and creative heights. I was just out enjoying the day on my tractor. I had the idea that I could use the front end loader as a receptacle for harvesting the filberts, and it was actually working nicely. Plus I just really enjoy taking the ole Kubota out for a spin around the firelanes. But maneuvering the tractor into and through the orchard is a tad tricky - not only are there low hanging branches and narrow lanes, but there are lots of blackberry vines. If one of those big gnarly ones catches on the front end loader it can thwap the poor hapless driver with nasty thorny force before it catches on the rollbar. So I was going slow and trying to gingerly grab hold of the larger vines and guide them up and over the rollbar behind me before they could thwap me.
One particularly large, purple, heavy branch caught me unawares, and I quickly twisted out of the way. In so doing, I apparently knocked my iPhone off the tractor. I know, I know - what was it doing on the tractor you idiot? Well, in my defense, I have it in a rubbery case precisely because it adheres to things, like the console of my truck, and it was staying put quite nicely up to that point. The trouble was, I didn't even miss it until some time later when I was cruising around the edge of our upper field which had been burned. I reached for the phone to take a photo and - no phone. Not in pocket, not on tractor. I remembered that big branch and figured it had to have fallen there somewhere.
So back to the orchard I went, turned off the tractor and hopped down to tromp through the underbrush. I was so thrilled when I saw it finally, and was feeling rather smug about how I didn't have to tell my husband I had dropped my iPhone and nearly lost it, when I actually picked it up. Pushed the button and - nothing. Lifeless. How can this be? The rubbery case has saved it from disaster in many a fall onto hard surfaces, and this was springy grassy undergrowth. Was my battery just dead?
Ohhh no, MUCH worse. It was BENT. MY iPHONE WAS BENT!!! I clearly drove over it with the tractor. Seriously, people, how can I drive over my own phone with a tractor??? It was very sad looking. So I made a rush trip into Salem to the AT&T store and found I was eligible for an upgrade and got a new one for 49 bucks. But the lovely pumpkin field photos I had not yet uploaded to my computer - gone. My new LSU Football App - gone. This is going to be a pain to restore.
But the upside of the evening was that the front end loader was indeed a very spiffy receptacle, and just in the span of 4 trees I half filled it with filberts, then drove down to the lower meadow and filled it up with apples, pears, and purple plums. And a few walnuts too. And this was a teeny tiny fraction of what there is to be harvested. The phrase "an embarrassment of riches" comes to mind. I think I need to borrow several teenagers, perhaps an entire high school class.
Anyone want to come pick fruit and nuts??
Friday, September 23, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Flame on
Um, Houston, we have a problem.
Remember the nice little bonfire from the other night? The one that supposedly incinerated the dwelling place of the hornets in my stump? Welllll - not so much. The next morning, they were right there. They didn't even seem bothered by the apparent home invasion of the night before. It's like nothing happened.
How is this possible? I mean, it was the Fires of Hell in that stump! Flames 3 feet in the air, and so hot that even after the flames were extinguished I continued to stream water in there for a VERY long time and still sparks flew up and steam hissed. Like I said, Brimstone City.
So how is it that these stupid hornets return to the scene of the crime and fly right in and act as if nothing was torched? This morning, my husband asked me to come listen to something. I did not much like the sound of that request, and I was right. Out we go to the stump, which appears to be quiescent, and I reluctantly bent over and listened. You have no idea how much I did not want to do that. I could not see much good coming from it - either there was nothing there in which case why did I have to listen anyway, and I might fall in (it is a big hollow stump), or there IS something there in which case I most decidedly do not want to be leaning over the damn thing. But, what the heck. Everybody has to die of something, right?
My bravery did not go unrewarded (or unpunished, depending on your point of view). There was, emanating from the stump, a reeeaaallllly nasty low rumbling buzz. The buzz of a very large quantity of things, low in the ground. Coming. This. Way.
They did not actually appear (obviously, or I would not be writing this, I would be somewhere in Kansas by now still running) but the noise was most unattractive. The best I can figure, there is a large side channel down in there somewhere, like where a root went or something, and the flames simply did not go that way. So it was more like setting fire to the porch than bombing the compound. Marginally irritating, but survivable.
Options are being discussed. Option one: dump it full of dirt and plant something in it like I wanted to in the first place (my idea). Option two: fill it up with a mixture of diesel fuel and gasoline. My husband's idea. I asked him if he was going for the Olympic Torch motif. Besides the explosive risk, seems like a colossal waste of fuel to me - we could run the tractor for a month on the amount of diesel it would take to fill that stump! Mostly, however, I have no desire to see a crater where the garage used to be.
We are a little concerned there is another point of ingress/egress to the hornet colony. It would be more than a little disturbing to get all smug about having trapped/burned/pillaged the thing only to see a column of sociopathic hornets emerging from another spot on the grounds and heading our way bent on revenge.
What to do?! Too bad we no longer have Kate's snake collection in the garbage can, we could try putting them all down in there. Maybe a fire extinguisher? The foam could expand out in all directions and smother them. Plain old water? Drown them? CONCRETE! How about concrete? Ideas, people, I need ideas.
So, when I need ideas, I turn to that fount of all knowledge -- Google. It is very interesting what one comes up with when one Googles "how to get rid of hornets in the ground". Lots of people espouse some variant of the diesel/gasoline option. Smoke bombs. Soapy water. Plain water. Placing a glass vase upside down over the entrance hole (these people obviously have MUCH smaller hornets nests that I do! A bushel basket would not cover the hole in this stump!) Various poisons in spray or powder form. There are helpful suggestions like covering your flashlight with a red filter so you don't attract them. REALLY? Who tested hornets color night vision anyway?? There are horror stories, like a guy stepping off his tractor into a yellow jacket nest and being killed by thousands of stings. But far and away, here is my favorite suggestion:
Make them watch a Michigan game - they will be so bored they will kill themselves!
The things you can find on the internet.
Remember the nice little bonfire from the other night? The one that supposedly incinerated the dwelling place of the hornets in my stump? Welllll - not so much. The next morning, they were right there. They didn't even seem bothered by the apparent home invasion of the night before. It's like nothing happened.
How is this possible? I mean, it was the Fires of Hell in that stump! Flames 3 feet in the air, and so hot that even after the flames were extinguished I continued to stream water in there for a VERY long time and still sparks flew up and steam hissed. Like I said, Brimstone City.
So how is it that these stupid hornets return to the scene of the crime and fly right in and act as if nothing was torched? This morning, my husband asked me to come listen to something. I did not much like the sound of that request, and I was right. Out we go to the stump, which appears to be quiescent, and I reluctantly bent over and listened. You have no idea how much I did not want to do that. I could not see much good coming from it - either there was nothing there in which case why did I have to listen anyway, and I might fall in (it is a big hollow stump), or there IS something there in which case I most decidedly do not want to be leaning over the damn thing. But, what the heck. Everybody has to die of something, right?
My bravery did not go unrewarded (or unpunished, depending on your point of view). There was, emanating from the stump, a reeeaaallllly nasty low rumbling buzz. The buzz of a very large quantity of things, low in the ground. Coming. This. Way.
They did not actually appear (obviously, or I would not be writing this, I would be somewhere in Kansas by now still running) but the noise was most unattractive. The best I can figure, there is a large side channel down in there somewhere, like where a root went or something, and the flames simply did not go that way. So it was more like setting fire to the porch than bombing the compound. Marginally irritating, but survivable.
Options are being discussed. Option one: dump it full of dirt and plant something in it like I wanted to in the first place (my idea). Option two: fill it up with a mixture of diesel fuel and gasoline. My husband's idea. I asked him if he was going for the Olympic Torch motif. Besides the explosive risk, seems like a colossal waste of fuel to me - we could run the tractor for a month on the amount of diesel it would take to fill that stump! Mostly, however, I have no desire to see a crater where the garage used to be.
We are a little concerned there is another point of ingress/egress to the hornet colony. It would be more than a little disturbing to get all smug about having trapped/burned/pillaged the thing only to see a column of sociopathic hornets emerging from another spot on the grounds and heading our way bent on revenge.
What to do?! Too bad we no longer have Kate's snake collection in the garbage can, we could try putting them all down in there. Maybe a fire extinguisher? The foam could expand out in all directions and smother them. Plain old water? Drown them? CONCRETE! How about concrete? Ideas, people, I need ideas.
So, when I need ideas, I turn to that fount of all knowledge -- Google. It is very interesting what one comes up with when one Googles "how to get rid of hornets in the ground". Lots of people espouse some variant of the diesel/gasoline option. Smoke bombs. Soapy water. Plain water. Placing a glass vase upside down over the entrance hole (these people obviously have MUCH smaller hornets nests that I do! A bushel basket would not cover the hole in this stump!) Various poisons in spray or powder form. There are helpful suggestions like covering your flashlight with a red filter so you don't attract them. REALLY? Who tested hornets color night vision anyway?? There are horror stories, like a guy stepping off his tractor into a yellow jacket nest and being killed by thousands of stings. But far and away, here is my favorite suggestion:
Make them watch a Michigan game - they will be so bored they will kill themselves!
The things you can find on the internet.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Oh, Joy
Today you get a "twofer" - something funny and something heartfelt. First, the fun.
So, in the seemingly endless saga of pesky creatures, many of whom have a propensity towards buzzing and stinging, we have a new chapter. Let me just say, I am NOT the girl who kicked the hornet's nest. My husband on the other hand...
We have a hollow stump in the flower bed next to our garage. It is rather picturesque, and in the first couple weeks we lived here I contemplated planting flowers in it. So I went over and had a look, bent over the stump and peered in. It was surprisingly deep, and also - inhabited. There was a hornet's nest or something like it, of a pretty good size. But not a lot of bees or whatever they were, so I thought maybe they had moved on. Oh contraire, Pierre. It was just evening, and apparently they are restful in the evening. The rest of the time, they became increasingly active and irritable. I walked out a couple nights ago and was surrounded by 8-10 of them swirling around my head, following me. NOT GOOD. We have covered this before. Definitely. Not. Good.
So my husband put a screen over the top of the stump during their "quiet time" that night. Predictably, the next morning, yesterday, they were PISSED OFF. BIG TIME. So, in a burst of complete and total irrationality, my husband REMOVED THE SCREEN. This is supposed to make them happier? They will forgive all and we all live happily ever after? Noooooo.
So, not knowing about the screen removal, I was in the house showering and heard my husband outside in the back (the stump is in the front) getting the grill going. I stepped out of the shower a few minutes later and heard other, stranger, noises emanating from the backyard. It couldn't be. It was. THE SHOP VAC.
Now, you have to understand there is a story that is part of the lore of my husband's family, that I head many more times than once over the years. In this story, his father, my otherwise pretty sensible and level-headed father in law, decided to remedy the problem of hornets or bees in the attic by attempting to suck them all up in the vacuum cleaner. Suffice it to say, this was less than a resounding success. There was personal injury involved, and not to the persons of the bees.
So why, I ask, why in the name of all that is holy, would my husband - who is UBER-reasonable under normal circumstances - even consider trying anything similar? But, he did. He is out there waving the nozzle of the shop vac all around the BBQ grill sucking up hornets right and left and soundly annoying the ones he missed. I yell out the window, something calming, something on the order of, say, "WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" I can't honestly say this improved the situation, but he did stop sucking them up a few minutes later, with no apparent loss of personal well-being. I guess it was just a small contingent, not the whole population of the stump, which would have been terrible to behold.
A few minutes later he comes in the house and announces he has a new problem. There are lots of very much alive hornets inside the shop vac. He had been, apparently, counting on the vortex tearing their wings off and killing them. Nope. Wings still on. Coated heavily in the dust adherent to the filter, but very much alive. I think they escaped when he opened the vac and took out the filter. Don't even start me on how brilliant THAT plan was.
Anyway, some hours later, we had again achieved the quiet time of the nest and were trying to decided how to "take care of it." When I saw hubby heading that way with a little aerosol spray can of wasp and hornet spray, I put that plan down straight away. I could not see holding a spray can down inside the stump stirring up trouble. I was more in favor of, shall we say - "Shock and Awe." So a combination of diesel fuel and a little gasoline was poured into the stump and a match tossed in.
Nice bonfire. Very effective. Burned a good little while. And not a single hornet came out. SO now we are wondering if they overheard us talking and all removed to another location in the hours between the Shop Vac Incident and the Bombing of Berlin. I figure we will find out unexpectedly, at the worst possible time. Sigh. Stay tuned.
----
Now for the heartfelt.
So we reeeeeaaaalllly love living here. We do not own it, we have a lease purchase arrangement, and have just been hoping we could find a way to actually grow something we can make a little money with, to help us eventually buy this farm. There are a lot of blackberries, we thought about that. We have considered beef cattle on a small scale. We have an old filbert orchard, but we didn't think it was producing, and while I was hoping we could encourage those trees to do something I was afraid it was going to be a long, difficult, and expensive process.
This morning I took a walk to pick berries. The blackberry season won't last a lot longer, I want to enjoy them, and hopefully get some jams made. So I started up a path alongside the pastures, with berry vines along the other side of the path. Picking my way along the bushes, suddenly there were apples. LOTS of apples. It was an unexpected bonus, and just when I was marveling at the bounty of fruit on this place, I reached the orchard. And looking down as I set the berry bucket on the path, there were filberts. EVERYWHERE. I was so excited I could hardly stand it. The ground was littered and the trees laden. It was like a revelation, that maybe, just maybe, we can make this old place work. And as I stood there in the row of filbert trees counting my blessings, I looked down the row and there was a large doe, still as a statue and breathtakingly perfect.
When you find yourself weeping with joy in the middle of an overgrown filbert orchard at 8 in the morning, you know you have found your life. Now I just have to figure out how to keep it.
But I think it just may work. And I am sooooooo looking forward to it.
Thanks for reading.
So, in the seemingly endless saga of pesky creatures, many of whom have a propensity towards buzzing and stinging, we have a new chapter. Let me just say, I am NOT the girl who kicked the hornet's nest. My husband on the other hand...
We have a hollow stump in the flower bed next to our garage. It is rather picturesque, and in the first couple weeks we lived here I contemplated planting flowers in it. So I went over and had a look, bent over the stump and peered in. It was surprisingly deep, and also - inhabited. There was a hornet's nest or something like it, of a pretty good size. But not a lot of bees or whatever they were, so I thought maybe they had moved on. Oh contraire, Pierre. It was just evening, and apparently they are restful in the evening. The rest of the time, they became increasingly active and irritable. I walked out a couple nights ago and was surrounded by 8-10 of them swirling around my head, following me. NOT GOOD. We have covered this before. Definitely. Not. Good.
So my husband put a screen over the top of the stump during their "quiet time" that night. Predictably, the next morning, yesterday, they were PISSED OFF. BIG TIME. So, in a burst of complete and total irrationality, my husband REMOVED THE SCREEN. This is supposed to make them happier? They will forgive all and we all live happily ever after? Noooooo.
So, not knowing about the screen removal, I was in the house showering and heard my husband outside in the back (the stump is in the front) getting the grill going. I stepped out of the shower a few minutes later and heard other, stranger, noises emanating from the backyard. It couldn't be. It was. THE SHOP VAC.
Now, you have to understand there is a story that is part of the lore of my husband's family, that I head many more times than once over the years. In this story, his father, my otherwise pretty sensible and level-headed father in law, decided to remedy the problem of hornets or bees in the attic by attempting to suck them all up in the vacuum cleaner. Suffice it to say, this was less than a resounding success. There was personal injury involved, and not to the persons of the bees.
So why, I ask, why in the name of all that is holy, would my husband - who is UBER-reasonable under normal circumstances - even consider trying anything similar? But, he did. He is out there waving the nozzle of the shop vac all around the BBQ grill sucking up hornets right and left and soundly annoying the ones he missed. I yell out the window, something calming, something on the order of, say, "WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" I can't honestly say this improved the situation, but he did stop sucking them up a few minutes later, with no apparent loss of personal well-being. I guess it was just a small contingent, not the whole population of the stump, which would have been terrible to behold.
A few minutes later he comes in the house and announces he has a new problem. There are lots of very much alive hornets inside the shop vac. He had been, apparently, counting on the vortex tearing their wings off and killing them. Nope. Wings still on. Coated heavily in the dust adherent to the filter, but very much alive. I think they escaped when he opened the vac and took out the filter. Don't even start me on how brilliant THAT plan was.
Anyway, some hours later, we had again achieved the quiet time of the nest and were trying to decided how to "take care of it." When I saw hubby heading that way with a little aerosol spray can of wasp and hornet spray, I put that plan down straight away. I could not see holding a spray can down inside the stump stirring up trouble. I was more in favor of, shall we say - "Shock and Awe." So a combination of diesel fuel and a little gasoline was poured into the stump and a match tossed in.
Nice bonfire. Very effective. Burned a good little while. And not a single hornet came out. SO now we are wondering if they overheard us talking and all removed to another location in the hours between the Shop Vac Incident and the Bombing of Berlin. I figure we will find out unexpectedly, at the worst possible time. Sigh. Stay tuned.
----
Now for the heartfelt.
So we reeeeeaaaalllly love living here. We do not own it, we have a lease purchase arrangement, and have just been hoping we could find a way to actually grow something we can make a little money with, to help us eventually buy this farm. There are a lot of blackberries, we thought about that. We have considered beef cattle on a small scale. We have an old filbert orchard, but we didn't think it was producing, and while I was hoping we could encourage those trees to do something I was afraid it was going to be a long, difficult, and expensive process.
This morning I took a walk to pick berries. The blackberry season won't last a lot longer, I want to enjoy them, and hopefully get some jams made. So I started up a path alongside the pastures, with berry vines along the other side of the path. Picking my way along the bushes, suddenly there were apples. LOTS of apples. It was an unexpected bonus, and just when I was marveling at the bounty of fruit on this place, I reached the orchard. And looking down as I set the berry bucket on the path, there were filberts. EVERYWHERE. I was so excited I could hardly stand it. The ground was littered and the trees laden. It was like a revelation, that maybe, just maybe, we can make this old place work. And as I stood there in the row of filbert trees counting my blessings, I looked down the row and there was a large doe, still as a statue and breathtakingly perfect.
When you find yourself weeping with joy in the middle of an overgrown filbert orchard at 8 in the morning, you know you have found your life. Now I just have to figure out how to keep it.
But I think it just may work. And I am sooooooo looking forward to it.
Thanks for reading.
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