We went to St. Jacobs' today, the large Mennonite tourists pit north of here. Its kind of sad to see a people's devotion to the simple ways, their devotion to their God, devotion to following the simpler rules of an earlier society reduced to a tourists spectacle, wholly bought into the chase for the almighty dollar, part and parcel on the road to Mammon with the rest of us.
But for me, an even more special trip to Wonderland this time; I have been unable to get my blood sugar under control this week, and this morning I felt as though I would never wake. I actually felt drugged in some way, even though I had not taken any. I feel like I am in a free-fall, and I don't know where this will come out.
Finally awake, we went to St. Jacobs', more for the exercise for me than anything, and to see the Farmer's Market, only open on Tuesdays and Sundays.
So I walked down the isles of pies, and cakes, sweets made from Real Ontario Maple Syrup, and buttertarts, middle eastern sweets and Japanese sweets; then table upon table of home-made jellies, jams, preserves, marmalades, honeys, butters - if it is sweet and goes in a jar, they had it for sale.
Water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.
There was nothing I could touch. It was finally sinking into my rather thick skull that there was absolutely nothing here for me but a slow, painful demise. I have to gain control of this monster or it will do away with me early.
I hate that I cannot eat the things I love to eat. I hate that I cannot eat all the sweet and marvelous things I love, like the maple syrup candies, but they are killing me. I have to control what goes into my mouth, finally, before it controls me. Only I can do that.
My resolve: to eat only what I should, and to gain control over my diet and my blood sugar levels. I give myself one week to show some grip, then one month to show real resolve in all facets in life. This is my present to me.
MMG
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
The End of the Bees
My mate and I strolled through the isles of the local home renovating store, when I came upon what we were looking for: bee spray. But this was a new kind of spray, a foam!
I studied the instructions carefully, since I was going to be on the "apply" end, while I figured my partner would be on the "spectate" end of our mission. The idea is to spray the nest entrance hole with the foam, and block them in (!), then walk up to the nest (!!) and stick the applicator wand directly into the hole itself (!!!) and fill the nest full of foam (!!!!). Each exclamation point represents the amount of sweat that was appearing on my forehead *in the store* just reading the instructions.
After some pacing, souls searching, and consultation with the T factories, I purchased the bee foam. Why not, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Besides, I haven't been stung by a hornet in over twenty years, I was due.
I did choose to wait until evening, on the presumption that most of the hornets would be safely in their little hornet beds and not out looking for me. I tested the system on a near-by bush (impressive range!), then slowly walked up to within about ten feet of the nest. This is where, as we used to say in the Navy, I had to 'reach down and find a pair.' It took some fumbling around, but I finally found them, and took up my position and sprayed the nest.
Worked beautifully!! Just like a huge blob of shaving cream, the nest was now blocked by this lethal substance that shielded me from the hateful hornets. I stepped up to the nest and heard just how hateful: the nest was actually vibrating with angry insects. I lost my pair at this point and stepped back.
A new thought entered my brain: what if, in sticking the six-inch applicator into the nest, I tear a hole into it, allowing the hornets to escape? What if the foam over-fills it, and it breaks open. Did those guys think of that? This was looking ever more like a mixed-up, Rube Goldberg setup every second.
Finding my pair once more, I stepped up again and followed the instructions (when in doubt, follow the instructions!), filling the angry, buzzing nest with foam. One bee did escape, but he took off before I could attack him (interesting reversal).
I think the nest saga is over. Tomorrow, I plan to take the nest down and run it to the dumpster. Once more the back porch will be ours to enjoy fully without insect interference.
What I learned with this episode in my life is that there are new things that are coming out almost daily, technology and science has introduced things to our lives that make it easier to do almost everything that we used to do with more sweat, danger, and personal pain. You can embrace it, or continue in the 'old ways,' your choice. I think the old ways are old for a reason.
The secret, and the goal for our youth, will be to meld the new ways with the good stewardship of the earth. That is what we leave you, young ones.
MMG
I studied the instructions carefully, since I was going to be on the "apply" end, while I figured my partner would be on the "spectate" end of our mission. The idea is to spray the nest entrance hole with the foam, and block them in (!), then walk up to the nest (!!) and stick the applicator wand directly into the hole itself (!!!) and fill the nest full of foam (!!!!). Each exclamation point represents the amount of sweat that was appearing on my forehead *in the store* just reading the instructions.
After some pacing, souls searching, and consultation with the T factories, I purchased the bee foam. Why not, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Besides, I haven't been stung by a hornet in over twenty years, I was due.
I did choose to wait until evening, on the presumption that most of the hornets would be safely in their little hornet beds and not out looking for me. I tested the system on a near-by bush (impressive range!), then slowly walked up to within about ten feet of the nest. This is where, as we used to say in the Navy, I had to 'reach down and find a pair.' It took some fumbling around, but I finally found them, and took up my position and sprayed the nest.
Worked beautifully!! Just like a huge blob of shaving cream, the nest was now blocked by this lethal substance that shielded me from the hateful hornets. I stepped up to the nest and heard just how hateful: the nest was actually vibrating with angry insects. I lost my pair at this point and stepped back.
A new thought entered my brain: what if, in sticking the six-inch applicator into the nest, I tear a hole into it, allowing the hornets to escape? What if the foam over-fills it, and it breaks open. Did those guys think of that? This was looking ever more like a mixed-up, Rube Goldberg setup every second.
Finding my pair once more, I stepped up again and followed the instructions (when in doubt, follow the instructions!), filling the angry, buzzing nest with foam. One bee did escape, but he took off before I could attack him (interesting reversal).
I think the nest saga is over. Tomorrow, I plan to take the nest down and run it to the dumpster. Once more the back porch will be ours to enjoy fully without insect interference.
What I learned with this episode in my life is that there are new things that are coming out almost daily, technology and science has introduced things to our lives that make it easier to do almost everything that we used to do with more sweat, danger, and personal pain. You can embrace it, or continue in the 'old ways,' your choice. I think the old ways are old for a reason.
The secret, and the goal for our youth, will be to meld the new ways with the good stewardship of the earth. That is what we leave you, young ones.
MMG
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Welcome to Canada
After three days of driving, rough weather in West Virginia, cool mornings, and finally, a smooth border crossing thanks once again to the Canadian Border and Customs Service, I find myself once again in the land of Gold Finches and restful days to complete my recovery. Not my usual two and a half month vacation, but I will take what I can get at this point.
So after a good night's sleep, I am ready for anything. Even when my significant other comes in from the back, and says that she has discovered a wasp's nest on the back porch, and would like for me to knock it down sometime today. 'Sure,' I tell her, 'right after coffee and the morning crossword.'
'Well, don't you do these things at night,' she asks?
Pardoning her brief foray into things Man, I reassure my mate that *I* am not a candidate for one of those lowT commercials. I'll knock it down in broad daylight. I grabbed my broomstick and mostly depleted can of wasp spray and went around the house to the back porch.
Of course, I hadn't counted on her miss-characterization of the situation. That's the 'wasp's nest' in the picture above. As I came around the corner and faced the 'nest,' a full blown Bald-Faced Hornet's Nest. I not only felt my T go low, but I felt my T factories looking for new and unexplored hiding places. You just don't see these things very often anymore, I rationalized over a third cup of joe. Very tricky, need just the right kind of spray, the type that can hit an escaping wasp at thirty feet, in the dark, and kill it in nanoseconds.
So while I am making my plans and shopping lists, the hornets get to enjoy another day of life, maybe two. Heck, who are they bothering, anyway? They are just buzzing around, happily pollinating the local gardens, attacking neighborhood yipping dogs, and otherwise minding their own business. Maybe we should think about Man's wanton inhumanity towards Nature...
Crow
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