Confessions of Single Girl Homeowner

I often feel like I'm muddling through life, particularly home ownership life, and that there are probably much better, smarter ways to do things than how I go about them. But of course, that's the adventure, right? Shhhyeah!

Today's adventure in home ownership 101 involved removing a hornet nest. Actually, I'm not sure if it was a hornet or a wasp, but I really didn't care. Either way the creature was building a honeycomb shaped nest in my front door which is unacceptable. I noticed it, by some fluke, as I was closing my front door. It was trying to create a home in between my screen door and front door. Not ideal, to say the least.

Which brought me back to childhood and how my dad would wig out when he saw a hornet or wasp flying near him. And yet he had no trouble stepping barefooted on a non-flying insect and picking it up - with his bare hands - to throw it away. Somehow those stingers really struck a chord with him. I personally make no distinction - I don't want the landlubbers or the flying bugaboos darkening my doorway or in my house. And I don't touch them with bare hands, feet - anything!

Tonight I knew I had to act fast to stop the nest builder. Otherwise tomorrow morning I'd probably open the front door and be greeted with a full size nest and a hostile family of wasps/hornets.

I chose my weapon carefully - a very old, trusty yardstick (advertising an old, neighborhood hardware store that's long gone since the big box Home Depots & Lowe's came to town) - and exited the house via the back door to launch my surprise attack. I quickly opened the screen door on the front porch and whacked at the nest. It fell and the wasp-hornet flew away.

I didn't run, waving my hands in the air and screaming like a fool, mainly because the stingered insect flew away in the opposite direction. Now, however, I do need to be careful tomorrow morning when leaving via the front door to make sure that the nest is not in my path, right outside on my front porch (nice that I think of it now, in bed in my pjs at 10pm rather than at 6pm when I was out there with the yardstick) with a few angry baby insects ready to sting me as I head to work. Note to self: leave tomorrow for work via the back door, bring yardstick, borrow fencing helmet from neighbor.

Ah well, at least I stopped the nest-building process before it was huge and intimidating and required an exterminator. And also firmly shut the screen door so that no other creatures can nest between the two doors. Next time they'll probably build on the awning directly above the front door. But at least it won't be happening today!

Which reminds me of another stupid, single girl home ownership tale. When I first moved in, money was tight so I borrowed an old mower from my parents. It was a reconditioned Lawn Boy that my step-brother used for his lawn care business before he upgraded to a new one. Of course I had problems with it. Not only did my guy friend tell me I was cutting the grass "the wrong way" (who knew?) but the damn machine would inevitably die in the middle of the yard. I'd have half of the yard cut when for no apparent reason it would stall and stop. So I'd yank the cord while pushing the mower forward a bit for momentum - over and over - and pump the button several times - and yet it wouldn't start up again. I'm pretty sure I argued with the mower, mumbling insults laced with profanity, trying to shame it into starting up - while I circled it, as if it was my prey.

During the frequent stalling out and failing to restart scenario, I often imagined my neighbors across the street taking interest in my predicament. The husband would say "Honey, she's out there again." Then the wife would listen for the mower to sputter and stop. One it stalled, they'd dim their lights, grab their bowl of popcorn and freezer beers and sit in their front window watching the single girl make an ass of herself with the old beater of a mower. "Heck, it was better than Seinfeld," they'd say to their friends at work the next day, "Say, why don't you come over next Thursday to see her in action for yourself? We'll barbeque."

Yup, it was pitiful. Luckily on occasion a nice neighbor a few doors down would see my pitiful predicament and assist. Of course it started the first time they tried, but perhaps it was just because I'd primed it enough by then and the engine had had time to unflood. Since that awful first summer I have a newer lawn mower (which of course stopped working a year or two later). So I've given up on the do it yourself mowing and have employed a few neighborhood kids. Always good to have resources - and I like that kids in my neighborhood still cut grass for spending money. So it's a win-win situation all around.

Getting back to insects & animals who have nested in/on my house, the other stupid thing that I lived to regret was the mourning dove who nested in my kitchen window frame. At first I thought it was neat - a little bit of wildlife right outside the window. She sat on her eggs, her partner came by to check on her, she had babies who grew feathers and eventually flew away - along with the mom. It was very cool.

What was not cool was when they abandoned the nest. It was then that I saw just exactly what was left behind. In the grooves where my storm window pane (or least the screen window) should have been - was where the damn things nested. So the cleaning up was nothing short of disgusting - bird poop, dead beetles, mud, grass/leaves mixed with mud and poop to create the nest, feathers, etc. Yuck. Although the experience of having the birds outside my window was great ... I just cannot forget the clean up. It still icks me out - the mere thought of what I had to do to clean out the window grooves/sill is an enduring reminder to always keep both panes down - at all times. Bleeech.