I called a family meeting last month.
Both Derek and I showed up on time. I gave us both angel stickers because I like to reward good behaviour. Derek refused to wear his. He said he had a golf game and they were not allowed to carry religious symbols onto the course as it would be an unfair advantage to have Jesus swing the club. I suspect he just does not want to make his golf buddies feel bad about not having their own stickers. I told him I would buy some more so he could take a couple and give them to his friends when they made a really good home run or something.
Anyway we had a family meeting so I could announce that I was going to be working on me pretty non stop over the next several weeks. I want to get myself back into a better head space, one that does not involve my fantasizing about people I know, Hannibal recipes, and where to shop for the main ingredients.
I think you know you need to meditate more when you reach that point.
I also think I need to write a letter to the TV station and let them know that I am being unduly influenced by their TV shows. You can’t show Hannibal and then all those cooking shows when we live in a world where Pinterest competition is almost lethal AND some people have really annoying neighbours and family. What do they think is going to happen?
Eventually you run out of beds to crochet afghans for and walls to put cross stitch on and you have to find a new craft. Cooking is always good, because you cook, you take a picture, you post on Pinterest, you eat and you have to do more cooking. If you can eliminate some enemies at the same time … BONUS!
So yes I knew I had to meditate more even though there is nothing about homicidal thoughts in the meditation manual. It just says you should do it if you feel “stressed.” I am not a psychiatrist or anything but I have made the mental leap in my head that most murderers probably are experiencing some form of stress when they decide to kill. Derek says I make a lot of leaps and that I should be more careful in leaping. People can get hurt.
I bought a roll of bubble wrap to protect people until I get fully meditated.
I served tofu and mung beans for a meeting snack. We did some breathing exercises and then Derek said he had to go. I begged him to stay, we had more to discuss, like what position I should be in when I meditated and which leotard I should wear. Besides, he had not finished his mung bean coffee cake and I was going to play the crystal bowls for him at intermission to help relax him too. He assured me he was already really Zen.
I like to think I contribute to his golf that way. I know it has made us richer. Before meditation the swear jar at the golf course was full of our money, now … not so much. Which means the greens are quieter too. I am into nature like that. I am thinking of offering to do a class at the golf course, sort of a warm up to a great game of golf. I can meditate them all, and then feed them mung bean soup … with ears …
. . . I can’t stand half those golfers either …
Anyway I told him to sit down and relax and continued with the next point of business. The wasp nest.
I hope you note how diametrically opposed my needing to meditate myself and going to battle with wasps are. But that is what we women do, we multi task. I took care of my needs and now we were into the entertainment portion of the meeting. Every good meeting needs refreshments and entertainment and at least one bathroom break.
I wanted to make it clear to him that I did not want him removing the wasp nest that appeared under the eaves by the pool. He got stung three times mowing the lawn. Bulls have the colour red, wasps apparently have lawn mowers. I am sure it goes back to some lawn mower somewhere being used to try and destroy a nest. A man, thinking he could do it on his own, grabbed the tool immediately available .. a lawn mower …and moved in towards the nest . And now, there is a hive mentality that says “lawn mowers bad” and so they stung my hubby. He was actually in pain.
That concerned me because motorcycle accident, face ripped off = no pain. Almost sliced off finger, sewed it back on himself = no pain. Wasp stings = pain. They had to be pretty bad.
So the idea of them swarming him was not high on my list of things I wanted to see. AND if they were swarming and he was on the ground screaming, who was going to go out there amongst the angry wasps and pick him up???
I looked it up on the internet. Wasps can be very dangerous. Only fools try to do it themselves which is probably why my husband volunteered.
That discussion ended in agreement we would get someone in. Only he did not agree convincingly enough so I pulled out the big guns and phoned his mother and said he could die if he tried it and she made him promise her he would hire someone to do it. I am actually starting to like the woman.
I gave him another sticker for learning how to “compromise.” It was a bunny sharing his carrot with a kitty. He said cats don’t eat carrots but I reminded him that the three pigs nor the big wolf could actually talk either but it still made for a good story and at least allowed children to bond with swine in away that may never have happened had it not been for that story. I made him promise to try and work with the message of the sticker. Sharing, compromising … working with his fellow man. I licked it and stuck it on his hand so that every time he swung the golf club he would see it.
Unfortunately as he drove away, waving wildly out the window at me for some reason. I saw the sticker flutter to the ground and land in the middle of the road. I picked it up and tried to run after him but I can’t quite do 100kmh anymore.
I will use the glue gun next time.
I tried to find someone to come and take the wasp nest down. No-one returned my calls, they were all in the hospital recovering from wasp stings probably.
So I read everything I could find, supervised my hubby reading all the material I found, quizzed him on it and then we came up with a plan. He needed netting for over his hat and around his face. I found a tablecloth that looked fab on him and matched his Driza-bone coat.
He was going to go out late at night when it got cold and as he has excellent eye sight he would not use a torch so that the wasps did not think it was daylight and attack him. Wasps flunked ‘Light Source Identification” in high school. He had wasp specific insecticide and before you all start writing me nasty notes about the environment please be reminded I am deathly allergic to bees and wasps and yet I saved a bee drowning in our pool. I care. I care one at a time, at the end of a long pole, when they are almost dead … I cannot care for thousands of angry swarming killer wasps because I actually care more for me. Sorry. I have narcissistic tendancies. These wasps were dangerous and they were too close to the house to leave alone which we would have, if we could have.
We had a cleared escape route and he was going to hide out in the shed if they attacked him. We could not risk any getting into the house and me getting stung.
I told him he had to do it when I was preoccupied with something else so that I did not have a heart attack watching him. I made sure I knew where the wills were, I told him I loved him and put on my head phones and started to watch a movie so I would not be disturbed by the screaming.
About an hour later he tapped me on the shoulder. Mission accomplished. No deaths to report.
Then we had to wait until morning, see if there was any activity and then repeat the next night if needed.
So far no activity. Lots of dead wasps.
Pretty proud of my hubby.
I am going to shop for some new stickers for the next family meeting. I wonder if there is one with a bunny feeding a kitty a wasp. That would be awesome.