All during the month of June, there was a wasp – I’m pretty sure it was the same one – that would linger in one corner of the swimming pool. I would shoo it away, and it would come right back. It drove me crazy, because it would buzz my head every time I came up for air, even though if I was under water it was happy enough to linger on its favorite blue tile.
Wasps don’t have a terribly long life-span; by the first week of July it had disappeared.
Last week, wasps began turning up in my bathroom, which is perplexing since the only window in that room doesn’t open. Since then, there have been three wasps in the bedroom, and about one a day in the kitchen, though on Friday, when Chris (who is not afraid of wasps and spiders) was away there were THREE on the back door.
Two of them, I eventually convinced to leave the house, through the back door that I slid open, inch by inch. The third was demolished, and then devoured, by Miss Minnie the Pocket Pointer.
I do love a dog who eats bugs.
We haven’t been able to find a nest, but I know there has to be one, and when we find it, those little bits of buzzing annoyance are dead.