No pretty pictures

Are you sick of pretty pictures on this blog?  Yes?  Well, today we will be dealing with the foul habits of creatures I don't like at all - wasps.

This area appears to be wasp heaven, even more so than Double Bay. Wasps are horrible predators, and their favourite trick is to paralyse prey, drag them back to their ghastly nests and entomb them alive to feed emerging wasplings.  Also, they are aggressive if disturbed and can sting repeatedly. We get all kinds of wasps in this area, mud wasps, paper wasps and even a few gigantic nightmare-sized ones that appear to be solo specimens - hope I never disturb a nest of those whoppers. They need a runway to land on.

Couple of days ago we went for a bike ride for the first time in a while. Here's what David found on his saddlebags.

Can you make out all those poor spiders? They must be a favourite target. So, we have declared Wasp Wars. Two nests have been located outside, one conveniently situated right near the clothes line ready to sting me while hanging out the undies, and the other conveniently located on the back of the gas bottle ready to sting the Elgas guy.

Here is the Wasp Bride-Warrior, ready to do battle.

Bride-Warrior expertly wields his extermination wand, while sheltering his personage under gloves, overalls and a lace tablecloth, carefully pegged at the rear, so as to avoid sneaky waspy attacks below the belt. Having done the deed, and with angry wasps in pursuit, he made a strategic retreat indoors, while Marjory, me and Brown Dog cheered him on. My hero.

But, looking on the bright side, these hailstones from yesterday's storm were only the size of, well, hailstones.  Not marbles, golf balls or tennis balls this time.

 Another domestic-hero scene: David successfully disassembling the cheap and undisassemblable cooling fan for my computer to clean the thing and quieten it the-f-down.

 Hero shot number three:  on our drive back from Tuncurry yesterday, David suddenly pulled over and took off on foot in the direction of this display vehicle.

Happy Valentine's Day, he said as he kissed me tenderly (having first extracted some change out of my purse). Here I am looking and feeling pleased. "Why do we have to celebrate Valentine's Day?" Marjory enquired later.  "It all came from over from the Americans, didn't it?"

Happy Valentine's Day to all you stumblers who believe love rules - stand up and let it shine.  That's a line from Bruce Cockburn's "You can't tell me there is no mystery" by the way.