Year of The Yellow-Jackets

For some unknown country reason, the hoards of wasps have been replaced by millions of yellow-jackets this summer.  We still can see wasp nests here and there around the property, but it's the nests of yellow-jackets that have taken over every blessed spot you can think of. Under the eaves of the cottage, under a chair in the coop, over the garage door, and right smack on the side of the house, for goodness sake.

My husband got on the roof the other day to spray the nests that were under the upstairs windows, and when I saw at least a dozen yellow-jackets flying out from underneath that chair in the coop, I knew there had to be at least a hundred more... and there were, along with the eggs they had laid in those honeycomb nests they construct. The worst and most sting-iest things in the insect world can build the most intricate nesting spots.

The handyman has been spraying the palm trees before trimming them, and more often than not, he'll find a nest or two buried under the fronds. Now that those trees have been trimmed and look more controlled, maybe the wasps and yellow-jackets will find other places to build their nests. Hopefully, on someone else's property.

So far, knock wood, we haven't seen a snake up on the porch this summer. However, summer weather continues on through September and October here, so there's still time for one to make an appearance. (As I said: knock wood.)  The snakes could be staying away because of that orange cat, who's spending more and more time on the porch these days. He hasn't gone off gallivanting and looking for a girlfriend lately, come to think of it.  I still have the cat-carrier on the porch, just waiting for him to get into it for a nap...... then I'll shut that door and take that blasted cat to the shelter.  I doubt very much that's going to happen... he's been in that carrier before and it wasn't a happy experience for him, so the odds of him going near that carrier are against all kitty-reason. There's no picking up that cat because he would claw my arms to shreds in a heartbeat. I still walk around the porch holding a spray-bottle filled with water, to keep him away from my legs.

This coming November will be two years for that cat..... two years of feeding him, two years of him wandering off and probably getting female cats pregnant because he hasn't been fixed, and two years' worth of trying to avoid getting scratched by him.  Gatsby and Mickey (our two outside cats) still haven't accepted that cat and will howl and hiss at him from time to time.

So if my own cats don't trust that stupid orange stray cat, how in the world can I?  No matter how long he stays around here, he'll always be that 'orange stray cat.'  (And if you're out there thinking that all I need to do is stop feeding him, think again. I've tried that many times.... that blasted cat just gets meaner when he's hungry.)