Before leaving for Portland, I had been putzing with the lawn tractor and its mower deck. The mower deck has a Rube-Goldbergian pulley system from taking power from the engine and directing it to the mower blades. For a while (prior to traveling to Portland), I have been trying to get the right belt for the mower deck. The mower itself is a Sears. Its green color is not original, nor is the yellow mower deck. The belt that was on the machine when my father-in-law was cracked and worn and continually slipped off. Amazon.com has been stellar with their selection of belts. Props to Amazon for having belts listed by size and not simply the model of the machine they will fit. I have bought several – different circumferences and different thicknesses. Except for the last belt I tried, the others keep violently vibrating and slip off of the pulleys. The last belt was simply too short.
With the far-back garage closed and the not-mowing-mower in said garage, Melissa was not able to get the grass cut while I was in Portland. The grass also did not get cut the first week back from Portland. This was more than nerve-racking for Melissa, and she had had enough. We bought a new self-propelled push mower yesterday.
Melissa is a tomboy. She likes things with engines – lawnmowers, tractors, fishing boats. Whenever I would get the lawn tractor out to mow, inevitably, Melissa would wander out and ask if she could take over.
Like a kid with a new toy, I could barely get the few things I was carrying out and into the house; she wanted the new mower unpacked and working.
With the jerrycan of 92 octane gasoline empty after filling the new machine, I headed to a gas station; Melissa buzzed around the front yard with the new mower.
When I returned, she had moved into the backyard. She had mowed in front of the entrance to the vegetable garden and was now mowing lengthwise in front of the chicken coop.
I had noticed a mole hole near the entrance to the garden several days ago. I had made a mental note to fill it with dirt, but had since lost the mental note. Walking to check the expansive Little Shop of Horrors-like squash plant (I have not had to feed it bodies, yet, but the plant is enormous, and, in the hot weather of several weeks ago, it was growing nearly 12″ per day) that had been looking dehydrated earlier in the day, I noticed activity around the mole hole – insects, flying insects, black and yellow flying insects.
A closer inspection revealed wasps. Depending upon which entomology camp you follow, you call them Vespula alascensis, or you might call them Vespula vulgaris. Either way, they are wasps.
Melissa had apparently, and unknowingly mowed over the mole hole that now contained the wasps. Before I inevitably had to put wasp spray into their home, I set up a video camera and videoed them cleaning out the grass clippings that had landed at the entrance.