Swarms of killer technicolored wasps?

Well, the summer is finally coming to a breezy end.  The small area of our gardens that managed to escape my attempted annihilation by weed-whacker is now browning and drying before my eyes.  The barn is clean and stocked for the fall.  The house has been stripped, steamed, shop-vac’d, vaccuumed, and scrubbed.  The fence posts have been replaced and the wires re-tied.  The trees have been cut-backed, trimmed, or pulled and the mulch is in the beds.

This morning, I woke and took in a full gulp of crisp, morning air.  I smiled.  I knew I had nothing to do but relax today and enjoy the weather.  I asked the girls to run out to the barn to take the animals into the back field while I cooked breakfast.  Two minutes later, they came racing back in.

“Mom!  There are the scariest bugs in the field!”

“Big!”

“Striped!”

“Stingers!”

“Black wings!”

“Everywhere!”

Now, given my daughters’ huge imaginations and their tendency to exercise them at will, I smiled, nodded, mmm-hmmed, and told them not to worry.

“I’m sure they’re harmless,” was my rehearsed reply.

While they were eating, I took a walk out to the back field to see what they were all riled up about.

Harmless?????  My ass!!!!!

There were dozens – close to a hundred – of the creepiest, B-grade sci-fi insects I’ve ever laid my eyes on, just hovering over the field at ankle-height.  They were, indeed, huge – nearly two inches from tip to stinger.  They did, indeed, have black wings – that shone a shocking iridescent blue in the sun.  As they lifted those wings, they revealed a hard red and yellow striped body with an enormous pointed back-end – needle sharp.

I screamed.

I ran.

I prayed they weren’t following me.  I galloped straight into the barn where I came to rest up against the dry, wooden plank wall.  My hand stuck to something.  I looked down and saw my fingers enmeshed in a spider web at least 10 inches across.  They came to rest about a fingernail’s width away from a fat, hairy, and very poisonous looking spider.  (I have no idea if it was poisonous.  But, it was hairy – and, in my book, that equates to the same thing.

I screamed.

I ran.

I prayed it wasn’t still attached to me – dangling by my finger – about to get stuck in the cuff of my shorts or down my boot.

I plowed through the screen door and into the house.

I sprinted into the bathroom, stripped down, and hopped into a scorching shower.

Ten minutes later, I was sure any living thing that could have possibly attached itself to me had been boiled to death.

I breathed a big gulp of crisp, morning air and decided to try to start the day all over again.  This time, sans insects!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Monthly Posts

August 2012
M T W T F S S
« Jul   Sep »
 12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  
The Fairy Tales Me Blog

A fine WordPress.com site

365 days of reading books {2013}

Smile! You’re at the best WordPress.com site ever

Eat.Love.Write.Live

Musings of an erratic mind

Snarky in the Suburbs

Middle aged, Uncool and Not Bringing Sexy Back

Lil' Suburban Homestead

Sharing Our Passion for Sustainable Living on a Budget

clburdettwrites

artandpoetryforum

Nancy Tandon

My inner writer is out to play!

Blossom

Words, Wanderlust, and Daydreams by k.c. o'leary

Write. Every. Day.

A suburban adventure, by k.c. o'leary

A suburban adventure, by k.c. o'leary

Life etc...

A suburban adventure, by k.c. o'leary

WanderTime

A suburban adventure, by k.c. o'leary

Out to Play

A suburban adventure, by k.c. o'leary

Irish step dancing journal

A fine WordPress.com site

The Foodie Kids Club, by Abbey O.

A place for kids who love healthy, creative food

Undercurrents

Exploring those mysterious, underlying forces fueling a writing life

The Writer Within You

It's a Process

Be someone's hero. No cape required.

Lynda Mullaly Hunt, a children's author, blogs on craft, news, and the importance of everyday heroes in everyday lives.

Stonepost Farm

A suburban adventure, by k.c. o'leary

%d bloggers like this: