The Decision – an Experiment in Coexistence….

Carmen actually saw them first. Cathy was at the barn cleaning stalls and Carmen was barking like crazy. And kept barking like crazy. That’s usually the sign of a snake, or some other animal that she has cornered or is unsure about. So Cath went outside the barn to see what was causing the commotion. But Carmen wasn’t looking down at the ground, she was looking up. Cathy followed Carmen’s gaze upward, and then she saw it. The wasp nest was at the top of the barn, about 16 feet off the ground, and anchored between two barn lights. Maybe a foot wide, by a foot deep, by a foot and a half high. And while maybe not a freeway, there was county road of wasps flying in and out of the hive.

Cath told me about it that night and I took a look. At home, we have about a half can of sure-shot 20 foot hornet spray, which is not enough in my opinion. So I took a couple of pictures, and figured I’d go to the store the next day, get a couple more cans, and do the job the next night.

Of course, me being me, I posted one of the photos on Facebook, and the comments came pouring in. “Yikes!” was probably the most popular comment. After that, there many helpful comments about how to destroy the nest – Call the pros…. Hit it with a stick and then run….Multiple suggestions on spraying, and doing it at night, when all the wasps were in the nest….And there were a surprisingly large number of people suggesting fire as the solution: use a flamethrower; squirt lighter fluid on it and strike a match; tie a rag to a stick, soak it in gasoline, and use it to torch the hive; use a drone with a mini flamethrower on it (do those exist?!?!)…. Now, I’m not against fire in general, but the nest IS attached to the barn, and I know how my luck would go on something like this.

And finally, there were a few folk (our sisters Roberta and Bonnie, an old Boy Scout friend, now photographer, Bryan, and our good friend Cory), who all said versions of “Is it bothering anyone? If not, just leave it there until the first hard frost, the wasps will die, and you can take it down then.” Bryan and Roberta even posted pictures of old wasp nests hanging in their houses. Cory, who is a crazy good artist, wants the nest so she can make paper out of it. WHAT?!? ARE YOU ALL CRAZY – DON’T DO ANYTHING?!?! And then I thought “hmmmmm” and went on line to do some research.

It turns out that wasps generally don’t bother people, unless their hive is being threatened. And they do some good things. They actually kill and eat many common garden pests, including predatory insects, caterpillars, tomato worms and flies. They are decent pollinators. Not as good as bees (something about leg size), but pretty good. AND, it turns out they carry and store yeasts. Yep, it turns out they can have a positive impact on bread, wine, and beer.

So, the whole yeast thing finally put me over the top and helped me make my decision. We are going to try an experiment in coexistence. If the wasps can leave us and the horses alone, I’m ok with them hanging out, helping us reduce pests in the garden, and doing their yeast thing. Their flight path needs to stay up there, and maybe we can make this whole thing work.

And Cory – you can have the nest sometime in October or November…

You say tomaytoes,

I say tomahtoes…..

Summer is definitely here. As a matter of fact, it’s almost high-summer in my mind. Some recognizable signs of high-summer?

      July 4th has come and gone

      The All Star game in baseball is over

      High temperatures, with high humidity

      Crabs and crabfeasts

      Drinking an occasional “lawnmower beer” while working outside

      Oh, and the tomatoes in our garden are finally ripening!  

In my mind, nothing says summer like a tomato from the garden. Just picked, washed off, sliced, and maybe a sprinkle of salt on it. Or whole and hot from the vine, dripping juice and seeds down my chin and shirt. That could be a feast unto itself.

We’ve been eating some items out of the garden for awhile now – broccoli, onions, basil, various peppers, some baby beets, but so far, no tomatoes. That changes tonight, when we will have our first grape tomatoes from the garden, halved, and added to a salad.  

It’s been a strange growing season, and things are a bit delayed. May was cold and rainy for almost the whole month, so even though we put the tomatoes in near the start of May, they are just now starting to really grow and ripen. The grape tomatoes will go into salads, starting tonight. The Early Girls aren’t so early this year. And the Roma, Beefsteak, and Heirlooms? Still to come.  

In our future? Cheeseburgers with a slice of ‘mater… Caprese Salads….. Gazpacho…. and of course that king of summer sandwiches – the BLT. The bacon and lettuce, along with a smear of mayo are important. You can toast or not toast the bread. But what’s the true key? A couple of slices of fresh tomatoes from the garden. When our good friend Tim’s tomatoes come in, he says….

       “yep, fry up a pound of bacon, get a loaf of bread, keep slicing tomatoes and eat till the bacon is gone. It is not pretty, so do not watch if you are squeamish”.  

Summertime is a sandwich.  Or at least this sandwich is summertime.

As August gets here, we’ll hit critical mass on the tomatoes in the garden, and Cathy will start canning her Tomato Provençal Pasta Sauce. It’s a great sauce, and when we have it this winter, it still tastes like summer.

For now, it is high summer. With apologies to George Gershwin,

          Summertime,

          And the livin’ is easy.

          Fish are jumpin’

          And the ‘maters are ripe….

Civic Duty, and Cell Phones…..

I recently received a letter in the mail from Fauquier County (note to people who live elsewhere: this is pronounced Faw-keare, not Fuc-here, as my mother-in-law use to occasionally mispronunce….). Cathy opened it for me, and I heard “uh-oh” as she handed the letter to me.

Special Grand Jury leaped off the page at me and my pulse increased a bit. Then I realized that I was being summoned as a potential juror, and not to be investigated…”whew, dodged a bullet there” I thought. Kidding…I’m not currently aware of doing anything that a grand jury would want to investigate….;-)

I read and then reread the letter. It turns out this is a serious time commitment – the first and third Thursday of the month, for a period of six months to “investigate any condition that involves, or tends to promote criminal activity“. Two days a month for six months….If you are working fulltime, how could you possibly do this?

But, I’m not working fulltime. As a matter of fact, I’m (mostly) retired, with a bit of consulting on the side, so I don’t have to worry about that impact. And you know what? This IS important. We all need to do our part to support our communities, and maybe this is another way I can support mine. It will be interesting to see the makeup of the jury, once selection is completed. Will we be a collection of retirees, unemployed people, and house wives/house husbands?  

I looked at the letter again, and they provided a number to call, confirming you received the letter. I called the number and a lady answered. I confirmed receipt and said I would be there on the 14th. The lady said “make sure you wear appropriate attire (no shorts)”, and then wanted to confirm my telephone number. I was about to give her my home number, when she recited my cell number to me, and wanted to know if that was correct. I said “yes”, and then it hit me – why and how did the county have my cell phone number? I asked her that question and there was momentary silence on the line. Then, “I don’t know, that’s just the number we show for you”. I thanked her, and hung up the phone.  

So, on the 14th, I’ll be in downtown Warrenton, dressed appropriately, and not carrying my cellphone (on the backside of the letter – no cellphones allowed). I sure hope they don’t have to call me that day….

Rats DO desert a sinking ship…..

We were over on Tilghman Island, at our neighbor Bill’s house for dinner. Also there that night was another of our neighbors, Captain Stanley Larrimore. Captain Stanley (as everyone calls him) is a retired Skipjack captain, and semi-celebrity around here. Captain Stanley has been featured in more than a few books about the Eastern Shore, and particularly books about oystering, and Skipjack sailing boats. For those not aware, Skipjacks are a low slung sailing boat used for oystering, through a method known as dredging. Back in the 1800s, there were literally hundreds of them on the bay. Over the next century, there came to be fewer and fewer of them, until now, there are only 2 working Skipjacks left on Tilghman.

For dinner that night, we were having soft shell crabs, and Captain Stanley was showing us how he prepares soft shells. Anytime a waterman is giving you cooking instructions on seafood, you want to pay attention – in this case, this is a man who has spent over 60 of his 80-something years making a living on the water – he knows what he’s talking about…..A drink or two later, we fried up the crabs and they were delicious.

After dinner, we were sitting around the table, when all of a sudden Captain Stanley says “ya know, rats do desert a sinking ship”. We looked at him, and with a bit of sparkle in his eye, he relayed the following story…

“We were out oysterin’ and the day had gone well. We’d hit our limit, and were heading for Tilghman. As we passed Poplar Island, it seemed to me that the boat was handling funny, so I told one of the crew to check below. He took a quick look and said everything was fine. It turned out not to be fine. The hold was filling with water and The Reliance (his Skipack) kept running lower and lower in the water. I wasn’t sure we were going to make the harbor, so I ran her to a point near the entrance to Knapps Narrows and ran her aground…as we hit the ground, two rats came out of the hold and leapt off the deck and swam to shore……..Well, I got the buy boat to come by and we offloaded the oysters. Without the weight, I was able to nurse her home. It turned out that the rats had eaten a two inch hole near the centerboard and that’s what caused the hold to flood. We got her repaired the next day, and we were back out the day after that. Not only had the rats caused the hole in the boat that caused the leak, they were the first one off when it looked like we were going to sink”.

We all laughed and made a few jokes about the rats. A few more stories were told, and the dinner ended an hour or so later. For me, it ended way to soon.

Captain Stanley is a great neighbor and I count myself lucky to know him. I’d first heard about him 7 or 8 years ago, when reading a book called Skipjack (White). When we bought our home on Tilghman, I couldn’t believe that he was a neighbor across the street. If you want a living history of the Eastern Shore, he’s about as close as you can get. Well, he, and a few others like him. Vocal histories are something to be treasured.  I’ve found this to be true not only with my own father’s stories, but also many other people I’ve met along life’s path.  Captain Stanley is one of those people.

Now when you hear the phrase “They left like rats deserting a sinking ship” in reference to a business, or friends, or politics, you will know there’s a real basis for the phrase…..at least on one ship in the Chesapeake.