Between the good and bad, that's where you'll find me, Reaching for Heaven

The wasp hotel has been demolished: my dad got this powerful foaming spray to blast the nest, then proceeded to poke a big hole in it with what looked like the proverbial ten-foot stick, which got him even more access to the inside of the thing. The swarm was smaller than it was the other night, since he sprayed a bunch of them as they were flying home to roost for the night. The middle of it is now laying on the grass, covered in dead wasps in various stages of development. Nifty entomology lesson, but now we have bits of grey paper wasp paper drifting around the yard and getting tracked into the house.

The latest generation of the family of wrens that like to nest on our deck has set up house-keeping! And instead of using the nice nestbox my dad hung from under the overhang, just for them, the silly little widgets have decided to reuse the cardboard box they nested in last year.

Besides the loose parakeet I've been tailing, we've been watching a pair of house wrens that made a nest in a cardboard box on top of a large tool chest my dad has on our back porch. Not the safest place, but they're doing well; the eggs hatched recently and the parents have been hopping back and forth from the nest, hunting for grasshoppers and other bugs to feed to the three or four chicks my dad spotted, deep inside the ball of leaves and twigs and grass the two little darlings built. They're fun to see perched on the porch railings, or on the tip of a car molding that's sticking out from under the box; they seem to think it's a perfect wren roost!

They're the cutest little things; at first glance, they look like sparrows, but they hold their tails almost straight up and down, which gives them this perky, pert look. Plus they've got that white stripe across their heads, which my dad says, "Makes them look like some kind of a chipmunk-bird." And they've got these cute, feisty personalities: I'll be passing through, on my way to the mailbox or to work, and they'll hop up into the trees and scold at me, making this cute little "Ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee! Err-err-err-err-err-err-err!" noise that I've learned to mimic, to their annoyance. I just scold back at them, which ticks them off royally.

Mind you, this is the most recent of three or four generations of wren families we've had build a nest on our porch. Usually, they take up residence in a hanging plant, but my dad was a bit late getting a plant for the porch, so the newest renters seem to have done the resourceful thing and found the next best subsitute they could find. I like to think that a now-grown bird from the previous clutch comes back every year and tells their mate about this lovely sheltered nook that's just right to build a nest, how their parents built their nest at that spot, and about that crazy human with the shiny things over her eyes, who'd always be chattering back at Mom and Dad when they'd squawk at her for getting too close to the nest.

Finally the weather has cooled off and the humidity is plummetting as I type... Hope it stays cool and dry through Saturday: how else am I gonna wear my black trenchcoat? ;8^)

But that wasn't the high point of the day...

Mom asked me to go out and pick some grape tomatoes off the two *BIG* plants in tomato cages my dad brought home. I was trying to pick them off the plant near our mailbox, when this bumblebee came buzzing around, attracted by the bright yellow flowers on the tomato vines. So, since we were getting in each other's way, I went over to pick the tomatoes off the other plant, next to the porch. As I'm puttering around the plant, I hear this squeeky snorting, snuffling, gasping sound coming from nearby. Now, we've had a chipmunk living under our deck this summer and the little rodent has been mooching tomatoes off our plants. I don't mind if he snags one or two now and then, but he has this slightly maddening habit of leaving them on the steps of the porch. Well anyway... I figured it was the chipmunk grumbling under the deck, but the sounds seemed distressed, so I took a look.

Near the tomato cage is a 10 gallon plastic pail three-quarters full of water. And I notice the surface of the water was rippling like something was swimming in it. So I took a look...

And there was the chipmunk, in the water, barely keeping his head above the surface. At first, I looked around for something to fish him out with, but then I realised it would be easier to dump him out. So I took the pail off to one side, and tipped it over, dumping the chipmunk and half the water out, then dumped the rest of the water where it wouldn't hit the now very bedraggled chipmunk. He sat there crouched in a sunny spot on the grass, shivering just a little and looking miserable. I was afraid the cat might come along and get him, so I went looking for a box to put him in. Then I thought I'd better get a nice thick bath towel to pick him up with in case he got scared and bit me. So I went in and explained the situation to my mom, who found me just the towel I needed.

I went back out and knelt beside the chipmunk, whose fur had started to dry out a little, reassuring the little guy that I wasn't gonna hurt him, I was just trying to help him...

And then he took off like a shot, running under one of the cars. If he can run, he's all right!