Frances and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning

Saturday started like any other day: I woke well before my alarm with four cats on the bed, and still got up early enough to shower before feeding them. After feeding them, I made myself breakfast, then went for a walk, planting Pokemon in several nearby gyms. I hung my laundry on the side patio, and decided to move my awesome new minion rain barrel to middle of the mulched area. I realize, it’s not a practical spot for a rain barrel, but I get to see it out the window every day.

I decided I should pull the trellis over to support the honeydew that volunteered by the radishes. I noted when I pulled it off the mulch that the indoor planter, emptied of plants and stored upside-down by the shed, had been resting slightly on it. I picked its placement and opened the shed for a digging tool, to better push in the supports. I then dangled some honeydew vines over the trellis (adding insult to injury, these need to be re-hung), pulled a weed, and put the tool back in the shed.

Carrying the weed still, I was walking towards the side door when the first yellow jacket stung. Thinking it a mere wasp, knowing there was a wasp nest further out in the yard that I’ve been dealing with, I made a brushing motion towards my right shoulder and said “wasp.” The second sting hit my left leg, at which point, the cursing began. I swung my hand that direction and glanced at my right shoulder, noticing a yellow jacket attached to my black t-shirt.

Moving faster now, I flipped open one of the compost bins, dumping the weed I was carrying into it. Standing outside the side door, I brushed off the various spots that had been stung and shook out my hair, in case any of the beasts was hiding in there. I stepped into the garage and felt another sting on my shoulder. Imagine, if you will, a pixie only as tall as your thumbnail jamming a tiny poisoned dagger – repeatedly – into your skin. I stripped off my shirt and dropped it on the floor, searching for the miniscule monster that was causing my pain. Unable to find it, I shook out my shirt and fled into the house, rushing into the hall bathroom before pulling off my shorts and checking them for any intruders.

For some reason, Cassandra, who had just woken up, was looking at me weird.

Having confirmed that none of the yellow jackets were in the house with us, I addressed my injuries and prepared Cassandra’s breakfast. I stepped out to the garage again during that preparation and realized the last – and presumably first – yellow jacket was trapped in there. With Zuko’s help, might flying insect hunter that he is, I found the offending creature and smashed it with shoe in hand against the window screen.

As I wavered on going to the farmers’ market – for bread (again) – I remembered the company, Clean Pest Solutions, that dealt with our ant problem a couple years ago. I couldn’t tell from their website whether they would handle yellow jackets, so I submitted a quick note on their contact form and headed out to do my shopping. I might have been five minutes from the house when they called me back.

Yes, they could handle yellow jackets. Their next available date was Monday… was that OK? They could send someone out with a bee suit to address the issue, along with some preventative measures around the house.

I showed the gentleman where the issue was likely to be (I was right!), confirmed that there was a shovel in the shed, then retreated indoors as he geared up the bee suit and filled his tank from the front hose. Then I stood in the bay window as he pulled my indoor planter away from the shed, dug into the dirt with the shovel, then retreated – a couple times, once all the way to the front yard – before he began spraying the area. Eventually, he dug out the nest and carried it over to the window where Zuko and I were watching, before disposing of it. (Zuko was trying to hunt all the flying insects outside the window.)

After finishing and shedding his bee suit, I was told to leave the area alone for 48 hours – including leaving the shed, which he sprayed inside and around, open. This was apparently the most aggressive nest he’d encountered, making me grateful that I’d hired someone to deal with it.

If you’ve never dealt with yellow jacket stings before, they start small and spread out over time. The near circle on my left leg was about 2 inches each direction Monday morning; by the afternoon, it was 3 by 4 inches, still somewhat rounded. It seems to be the worst one, though I don’t know if that’s due to location or if I was stung there more than elsewhere. I recommend putting yellow jacket interactions in the “don’t try this at home” category.

Two and a half days later, I ventured out before dawn in a light rain, illuminating my path with a headlamp. I cautiously approached the shed – open these past two days – looking inside for any buzzing creatures or the beginnings of a new nest. Having spotted none, I peer in, shining my light on the other half of the shed and moved a couple items they could have hidden under. Satisfied to find no signs of yellow jacket life in my shed, I secured both doors, wondering where the lock was. (I was able to spot it from the bay window – it’s on top of the shed, which will require a step stool for retrieval.) I’ll have to keep an eye out for new nests, and I’ll store the empty planter in the garage once it’s fully rinsed of both the yellow jacket carcasses and stuff that killed them.

Thoughts on Firebreak

When I started reading Firebreak by Nicole Kohrher-Stace, I noted that it reminded me of Ready Player One. As I read more, that was not the only dystopian setting it brought to mind, as you’ll see in this review. This review was originally published in the April 1, 2021 issue of Booklist.

Mal, the protagonist of Nicole Kohrher-Stace’s Firebreak, is one of many war survivors in old town working multiple jobs to scrimp by, including her team’s video game streaming. The team lives with several roommates in a converted hotel room run by Stellaxis, the company that owns this half of town, and is the only legal provider of drinkable water. When Mal catches sight of an elusive SecOps character, special NPCs modeled after Stellaxis’s twelve bioengineered operatives, the team launches in pursuit in the game to catch her on video for two seconds before their power curfew kicks in. By the time Mal heads down for her daily ration of water, they’ve secured a lucrative contract, involving an in-person meeting and a conspiracy theory, paying them to capture images of the three living SecOps characters. When Mal returns to find out why the next payment failed, she becomes involved in a fracas that will endanger everyone she knows. This dystopian novel will appeal to fans of Ready Player One and The Hunger Games with its blend of gaming and real life adventures. Mal’s unwitting evolution from disadvantaged video gamer to real life hero will appeal to every reader’s inclination to improve the world around them. 

What good books have you read recently?

A return to historically inaccurate weirdness

The Bristol Renaissance Faire re-opened to amazing weather – an overcast day in the 70s – last weekend after taking a year off for the pandemic. Adjusting for the still ongoing pandemic, masks are required for the unvaccinated, and the schedule seems a little lighter this year, including fewer themed weekends – the only themes this year are Steampunk (July 17 & 18th) and Pirate (August 7 & 8). Someone should tell the Spider-Man we saw with the Infinity Gauntlet and a pirate hat to go back next month.

Background image of Guido's Academy of Theatrical Swordplay, with images of Dan the Bard, Adam Crack's Fire Whip show, and Cirque du Sewer juggling with a cat on her head

As in previous years, we saw a mix of new(-ish) and old shows, a bit of shopping, and some tasty food. We started the day at the always entertaining Adam Crack’s Fire Whip show, and followed immediately with Guido (one of the two swordsmen; Dirk is taking the summer off) at his new Guido’s Academy of Theatrical Swordplay, featuring Guido training the next generation of Faire actors.

After a long wait for a caffeinated beverage, we enjoyed one of Dan the Bard’s concerts with his tremendous songs about Dungeons & Dragons. Fans of any role-playing games will appreciate his tales about players going woefully off task and monsters they encounter. Then we rounded out the day with a Cirque du Sewer performance, watching cats and rats comically misbehave during their acts.

In summary, it was a fabulous day of delightful entertainment on a surprisingly cool day.

The Quest calendar (continues)… part 10

Faris arrives in Ironfell and requests permission from Lord Aaron to borrow the city’s wizard.

As I headed to Lord Aaron’s manor, an old fisherman recruited me to find a jewel missing from the statue of Nilena, Goddess of the River. Awkwardly, he believes Lord Aaron stole it. I accepted his advance of three gold, then headed to the lord’s manor, delivering the letter from Lord Fellmont.

I was surprised to learn that Lord Aaron openly despises Lord Fellmont, though he acknowledged receiving frequent assistance from West Haven. He granted permission for Edvarius to accompany me only after finishing his current assignments, and suggested I might be able to assist.

Leaving the house, I spotted a jewel in the treasure room. Assuming it was the missing jewel, I attempted to sneak past past the guards. When they noticed me, I convinced them that as Lord Aaron’s guest, I should be allowed in. The jewel was, in fact, brilliantly beautiful, emanating a calming power, but that energy seemed to be faltering. I picked the lock and retrieved the gem, feeling no guilt at stealing it from this man whose greed was endangering his own city. I returned the gem to the statue on my way to find Edvarius. The fountain immediately began to flow when the jewel was reset, and the water seemed cleaner than that of the river.

Meeting Edvarius was depressing. He detailed all the problems facing Ironfell and bid me travel north to parlay with the giants. He seemed relieved at the prospect of going to West Haven, but angry about the tasks in Ironfell that took priority.

I forgot to buy bread.

I went grocery shopping Saturday morning and forgot to buy bread. (I generally make rolls, but I prefer to buy loaves of bread.) After dropping off some spare raspberries and strawberries that afternoon, I considered stopping somewhere to buy bread, but there aren’t any shops on that particular route home. So I deferred the chore until Sunday.

Early Sunday morning, it occurred to me that farmers markets are open again, and there was probably at least one near me on a Sunday. For those of you unfamiliar with farmers markets, they’re typically outdoor markets with fresh produce and other shopping that are only at that location one day a week. They frequently have fresh bakery products, which is what drew me to Google this fine morning.

Sure enough, I found a Sunday morning farmers market five miles away. Shortly after eight in the morning, I headed out, hoping to find bread and perhaps some bite-sized tomatoes.

A loaf of sourdough rye bread

As you can see, my mission was successful… there were several stands with baked goods, one specifically with loaves of bread, where I selected a sourdough rye bread. Directly across from it was a produce stand where I procured a multi-colored selection of small tomatoes.

The unexpected purchase, however, was the delightful find for the day. Anybody who has gone to the nearby Renaissance Festival has experienced the delicious smell of roasted nuts with tempting samples luring the passerby in. Apparently, the Geneva French Market includes freshly roasted nuts as well… with the choice of whiskey-roasted or vanilla nuts, produced by Nuts To Go. They are, in fact, quite tasty.

And that is why I went looking for a recipe – Honey Whiskey Roasted Pecans | Kara Lydon – and am wondering what effect using different whiskeys will have on the flavor.