Mallards, Storming the Beaches at Normandy!

It was a day that was straight out of the opera. There was laughter. There were tears. There was sorrow. There was joy. There was pain. There was some high-pitched whining that could have shattered crystal. Where shall I even begin?

Well, let's start at the beginning, shall we? I had decided it was time to wash the sheets, and the other evening, I saw a spider walk across the bed blankets (that particular one was caught in a container and dispatched outdoors), so I wanted to get underneath the bed too, and get the dust and any webs out.

So I put the sheets and the down duvet cover in the wash and I hung them on the line to dry. Then I went into the bedroom to tackle cleaning under the bed. I'd planned to use the mini-vac, but the first time I turned it on, it shut right off. Darn. Out of juice. Needs to be recharged.

So I got out the Big Vacuum, and I plugged it into an outlet by the TV in the bedroom. Same weird deal. I turned it on. It quickly shut right off. What the . . . ? I tried again. It would not turn on. Tried the outlet in the hallway. Aha, success!

Only after vacuuming under the bed did I start to realize that things were getting muggy in there. Then I investigated further and I realized: no air conditioning, no fan, no light, no Internet!! I'd blown the circuit in the bedroom by plugging in the Big Vac!

Now, let me tell you that this is a thing I have done before. Vacuuming, that is. Apparently not lately, though. My husband came in and we both realized we were screwed: no air conditioner, no fan, no lights, no Internet. How long would it take to get it all back? His guess: weeks. Such encouragement!

My husband went downstairs to flip the breaker back on, but the breaker had not been knocked off. Who knows why. He turned off what he thought was the appropriate one; then got a mild shock when he touched the outlet. Oh well, wrong choice!

I moved the Internet router to another room with power and a phone line connection, and I got onto our local neighbors network, where I knew I'd seen recent recommendations on electricians. I spotted one that had positive reviews by several individuals. I wrote down the name and number and my husband called it.

Half an hour later, we had a call-back, and the electrician was trying to walk my husband through how to assess and fix it. Well, a few minutes in, we realized we were WAYYYYYYYYYY out of our league. The guy is just down the road from us; couldn't he just stop by?

And this is how it happened that within an hour after our incident, we had an electrician in the house. And within an hour after that, it was fixed. We don't really know what happened but all outlets in the bedroom are now fine, and give power. We have Internet, and fans, and light, and air conditioning. Yay!

Also, if you want somebody to dish the dirt to you about your neighbors, call a local repair service. This dude knew the beans, and spilled them, about everyone and everything, ever. I actually wrote down a few things he said because the wording of it struck me so funny. $40 later, he was on his way. (Now we have an electrician! If only we had a plumber. . . . )

In the middle of all of this excitement, my new Casio watch arrived. I'll have to show you a picture of it some other day; it's retro, just like the Casio I bought 25 years ago (and still have the working watch face for, but no band)! And then we decided to do what we had planned to do on this day, which was to go swimming at Bald Eagle State Park.

We packed up our bags and by 4:30 or so, we were off for a late afternoon swim at Bald Eagle. It was a Saturday and it was much more crowded than we are used to. But we found a shade spot under a tree, parked our stuff there, and went for our swim.

This was a scene, from where I was sitting, looking down at the beach area. A whole squadron of mallard ducks arrived, and they came up onto shore like they were storming the beaches at Normandy! Quack quack! Quack quack!

Now, take a look behind those ducks. Do you see the three little boys who have just spotted the ducks? They are about to interact with the local wildlife. What happened next is that all three boys ran out of the water toward the ducks, and the biggest boy ran, shouting, after the birds, chasing them back into the water. The birds went. That was that.

Another part of what happened next is that I got stung on the bottom of my left foot by a bee. Yes, there is lots of clover along the shore, and the bees are very happy there. 

I walked out of the water after swimming, grabbed my chair and swim bag and shoes, and headed for the outdoor shower. I try to be mindful of the bees, and I do watch my feet, but I did not see the bee that got me.

Based on past experience with stings, though, I'm going with honey bee. I hope I did not hurt it. If it were a bumbler, I'd have felt the fuzz and size of it on my foot. If it were something awful, like a hornet, I'd have been in agony. (Trust me, folks: you do not EVER want to be stung by a hornet.)

So that's the story of the big day, in which we had an electric crisis, precipitated by Yours Truly, got out of it pretty quickly and cheaply, took delivery of a new watch, swam at Bald Eagle State Park, and got stung by a bee. If I'm getting stung, it sure must be summer here! Rock on, summertime!

I am typing this the day after, and the sting is now as itchy as all get-out. It does not hurt at all. But the itch is driving me crazy. Also, this from my husband: "Calamity, maybe you could stay away from the vacuum this morning." Duly noted. And done.

My soundtrack song. . . . Well, I like to walk, and a good song with a bouncy beat is good for stomping down the road. Here is one of my favorite road-stomping war songs. Stomp along as you see fit, but please watch out for the bees: here is Johnny Horton, with the Battle of New Orleans.