THE RURAL ACADEMY

Finally prepared to whack the rest of the profoundly unwhacked summer weeds that were so tall as to provide cover for tomato invaders of large size. The day after I got back from the States I’d done half, and left the whacker leaned against the side of the house to continue the next day, but it turned out that my efforts in the hot sun had approximately doubled my jet lag, so that was postponed; then Kaya and M&M were here on and off and what with naps and kiddy curiosity about noisy dangerous things I let the weeds go, but now the little two-leggeds are gone back north so I at once set out in today’s still cool sunny morning to address this rampant challenge of the wild. Got out the whacker, put new whacker cord on there, filled the tank, adjusted the choke, started her up and buh-buh-buh-die… again: buh-buh-buh-die…

Where had I heard exactly that muffled sound before? Somehow that struck me as a more important factor than maybe the spark plug or the choke…ah yes! Scooter Entomology. I looked at the exhaust, and sure enough, because I’d made the mistake of leaving the whacker outside, a hunter wasp had taken quick advantage of the ready-made hole and perfectly sealed the exhaust opening with quick-drying mud after depositing an egg or two inside. It was quality work. But I had quality work to do too. I cleaned the natural cement out with a sharp stick and whooom! Started right up. Live out in the country you learn things wasps teach. Several times.