Not sure where my impulse to be here has been - not found in my present mind. As if it hasn't been so long, but the date proves me wrong. Nothing to add to the state of the world. It is late summer and the wasps and yellow jackets are seeking home in my old house. The continent out here in farm land has been rolled. Big bales everywhere. The river is perfect.
In fact I am waiting another hour before heading down the creek - waiting for the sun to lessen in intensity. My forearm is still swollen from the third yellow jacket sting, on Sunday morning. I seem to have patched another tiny entrance last night. The buggers have made using my upstairs porch a dangerous situation unless at night. I have become agile with flyswatter and swifter (which works well killing the jackets buzzing at skylights). Somehow the jackets have found an exit from the upstairs nest into my downstairs kitchen. I have killed scores. I hated to kill them at first. I rescue wasps from the house. But there are too many of these small mean-stingers to rescue. This is war.
Today after qigong class, I stopped by Fran's to pick up my stack of Flaccavento Town Hall in Riner postcards and chatted with Fran. Would love to see her at class, but I won't count on it! The first place I tried to coax into keeping a few cards, refused. But i lucked out at the second stop, Brugh Coffee on Roanoke rd! Delicious home roasted coffee - Kirk was there. They took a stack. Carol at the Toy store took some and Krogers will put a few on their staff bulletin board. I'm almost out. Bon!