Sunday, June 21, 2009

Of birds and bees

I park under a tree most days so it's not surprising that my car is almost always a target for bird poop. Also, I'm somewhat lazy and don't wash my car as often as most folks, so when I found myself agreeing to give someone a ride to Union Station on Wednesday, I panicked--My car!! She's covered in poop (and don't get me started on the debris inside). Fortunately, we have this guy who washes cars on P4 of the parking garage at work. You just drop your car off, tell he when you need it done, and that's it. When I came out Wednesday evening with my passengers, Jamie was fresh and clean (did you know she was green?) and the inside was vacuumed, too.

On Thursday, my friend Criss and I joined a small group of friends to wish betheboy a Happy Birthday at the whiskeylicious Seven Grand downtown (at, you guessed it, 7th and Grand). If you haven't been, you should go. Despite our tragically hip bartender, who worked as if he was auditioning for something, the atmosphere was decidedly not hipster. With all sorts of taxidermy wildlife on the walls, I figured they had to have something in the bathrooms, too. And they did--Crows in pearls. Even the taxidermy is classy.

About a month ago, I noticed a lot of bees around the front of the house. Shortly thereafter, I noticed they were flying to and from the gap between the building and my front stoop. Thinking nothing of it (bees gotta buzz), I went about my daily comings and goings with nary a care. Then one day, about two weeks ago, Latina Gladys Kravitz greeted me at the door when I came home and pointed out the bees. "Oh, Laurie, do you see the bees?" Yes, I see the bees. "Oh, it's very dangerous. We should call somebody." I told her that the bees were only dangerous if provoked and that if she left them alone, they'd leave her alone. After all, I walk past them every day--twice a day--and have not had an incident. Besides, I told her, the world needs bees and the populations are dwindling. I, for one, am glad to see such a thriving group of bees. She was not appeased.

Today, when I came home from the laundromat, basket full of clothes in hand, she jumped me about the bees again. "Oh, the bees are very bad. They get in my house. Jennifer and her friend had to kill them. They get in her house, too" (meaning the neighbor next door to her) Okay, please refer to the photo above. The bees are literally right next to my door. They swirl around my feet and legs when I come home. And yet I've not had one bee in my apartment since their arrival. Now, if you take a look at this photo from will notice that the two front doors are pretty far away from the bee hive (on the far right of the house). Why are the bees choosing to go into those apartments and not mine? (psst...I don't believe they are. I think she's lying to make it seem worse because she's a busy body and has to be involved in everything). She also claims that both she and Robbie, the new neighbor, are allergic to bee stings. I find that hard to believe as only about 5% of adults are and what are the chances. So, she called the Frau and told her where the bees are and do you know what Frau said to her? "What's the big deal? They're just bees. Laurie isn't calling me so they can't be that bad." Some days, I like the Frau.


Annika said...

Ha! I like Frau sometimes.

woolanthropy said...

Just as a back up plan. Maybe when honey starts oozing through the walls. You can call a bee rescue and they will come and relocate the bees. I read about it in the LA Times a couple of months ago. Something about urban beekeepers.