(Don’t be scared, it’s just a harmless little children’s book followed by a discussion on the creative muse – based on a true life story).
Mr. Vole was on a mission to dig up every bulb in the Home Owner’s garden. He didn’t eat the bulbs although once in a while he had one for dessert, but took them back to his home under the deck. Mr. Vole was a vegan and there was lots of other food to eat in the garden, although he was sad the lettuce was done. He had watched the squirrels storing them up for winter and thought it was a great idea. He pictured himself with a big fat tulip bulb and a cup of hot cocoa, in his cozy den while the snow piled up on the deck above.
Although he was a vole, he had a lot in common with moles, as he loved to dig. He was fast at it too. He was big and fat like a mole too. Sometimes he would dig up a bulb just for the sheer joy of spreading all that dirt on the sidewalk and annoying the Home Owner. She would get the broom out and sweep up, and a couple of hours later he would dig it all up again. He could tell she was annoyed, but that was part of the fun. The Home Owner was retired, so she had lots of time to sweep. She lived on Easy Street and fancied herself quite a gardener so there were lots of bulbs around too.
Mr. Vole wasn’t the only one annoying the Home Owner as one day a Merry Band of Wasps moved in above the deck. They were busy building their hive which was tucked up under the siding in a hidden spot. Their constant droning and swarming was annoying sometimes, and he could see why the Home Owner came out and sprayed them with something smelly. While a few fell suddenly to the ground, the net effect was just to increase the sound of the construction noise – as then they were angry and the buzzing grew louder. Things quieted down at night when they were all tucked up safe in their nest above deck, and he was able to sleep soundly below deck in his.
Some summer nights there were loud parties in the neighborhood, with bonfires and hotdogs, and he liked to stay out late on the deck and listen to the music. He was a big Bruce Springsteen fan. The wasps would join him, as they were always up for a “jam” session. With their constant buzzing, they learned to harmonize quite well and made good backup singers, but he was more the lead singer type. Sometimes the wasps had too much “hard cider” from the fallen crabapples and couldn’t keep their dance moves straight and what’s a boy band without dance moves, but they still had fun. They would always end the evening with a noisy rendition of “God Save the Queen” before they collapsed into bed.
One day the Home Owner boarded up all his nicely dug holes and he had to build new ones, which didn’t take long. It was a big deck, with lots of sides to dig under.
Sometimes she had company over to show off her new kitchen, and the wasps ended up spoiling the party. She made desserts and they loved anything sweet, so they hovered around making a pest of themselves and waiting for the crumbs.
One night, she came out very late in her PJ’s and tried to duct tape the opening of the wasp nest. Big. Mistake. Lady. The next night she came out and ripped it all off, as those sneaky wasps had found an inside venue to play in.
Things continued on in this manner for several weeks. One day a man showed up wearing a spacesuit with a huge hat with netting over his face. He meant business. Mr. Vole had noticed the car with the Pest-Bee-Gone decal on the side and quickly ran around the corner to warn the others. He climbed up on the railing and shouted as loud as he could – MayDay MayDay! (It was August, but they knew what he meant). One of the worker wasps darted inside and soon the whole swarm had exited and flown away, with the Queen B (not Beyonce) in their midst, protected on all sides by her entourage. He saw the man in the suit spray some not-exactly-fairy-dust inside the hole but they were already safely away.
Mr. Vole decided he had better move on too. Although he hated life on the road and would miss his cozy home under the deck, it was too dangerous to stay any longer. The Merry Band of Wasps were so grateful he had warned them that they told him about a mansion nearby, and he quickly found “new digs” under the deck of a larger house, one with younger owners and an in-ground swimming pool. He was now into rap music, like everyone else. The young owners worked long hours to pay for the big mortgage and were never home so he could cool off in the pool, a cold beverage in hand.
Soon he was the one hosting parties on the deck every night. The wasps were keen on anything Drake, but the Queen B had departed for a solo gig. They played together so much they got better and better, and the very next spring he decided to take the show on the road. The wasps were excited about a world tour, but he wanted to stay closer to home. He could see the marquee now – his name in flashing neon lights. (When you’re famous you only need a first name). Onward to Fame and Fortune (and only pink tulip bulbs in the backstage rider please).
Voley (in big letters) and the E-Street Wasp Band (in smaller letters).
Coming soon……to a neighborhood near you!
(If you want to know the real ending, see the postscript below. Warning – not for the faint of heart).
Discussion on the Creative Muse:
It’s a curious thing what can spark the creative process. I find it interesting to read biographies of famous writers, to see where they got their ideas from. Did they spring fully formed from thin air, or was it a gradual process, a thought here and there scribbled on a napkin in a coffee shop and laboriously reworked for years, or maybe a combination of both. The whole creative process is a fascinating subject.
And what a wonderful thing it must be to be able to create a whole world out of nothing but your imagination – like J.K. Rowling did, not just once but seven times. Do writers have a more vivid imagination than other people? Are worry-worts more likely to be creative, having spent so much time dwelling in the world of “what if.” What makes one person more creative than others. Genetics? Practice? Or are we all creative beings, in one way or another? Can creativity be learned, or even analyzed or is it something that just is?
My children’s story was inspired by a number of things. Firstly, my frustrating “critter woes” this past August, and secondly by fellow blogger Linda’s tales of Parker, the squirrel in her neighborhood park, and our subsequent discussions of children’s books and the children’s television shows we had watched as kids. (see Walkin’,Writing’,Wit and Whimsy for Parker’s guest post).
In the eyes of a child, all animals are God’s creatures, great and small. It’s only adults who consider some of them vermin – a nuisance to be disposed of, of which I admit I am guilty as charged.
Sometimes a visual aid can spark an idea. While I was searching the basement for my old Seventeen magazines for the Woodstock blog, I came across a children’s book I used to read to my young niece when she visited the farm in the summers.
It was a Walt Disney abbreviated version of the children’s classic, The Wind in the Willows, and in the manner of small children everywhere who find a particular book fascinating, we would have to read it over and over again, night after night, until I’m sure I had the whole thing memorized. I don’t know what was so appealing to her – perhaps it was the gypsy-cart, or the motor car or the general reckless behavior of Mr. Toad who was always being rescued by his friends. Certainly as a city child, those rodent-type characters were not anything she would have encountered in real life. They weren’t even anything I ever encountered on the farm, as we had dogs and barn cats whose job it was to “take care of things like that”.
I’ve never read the full version of Wind in the Willows so don’t know how it compares, but there were more chapters and adventures in the original, as the Walt Disney book is a very condensed thirty or so pages. The copyright having expired, I suppose I’ve taken the liberty of adding another chapter, although the main characters in the book were Mole, Rat, Toad and McBadger, plus the Weasel Gang. It was written in 1908 by Kenneth Grahame (link), initially as a series of bedtime stories for his young son, and was inspired by his childhood spent along the river banks in England.
Flipping through the book that day, it was this fireside scene which helped me imagine my visitors, the vole below deck and the wasps above, all cozy in their respective nests. While I was entertaining on the deck I was also thinking about how my guests were unaware of all that unwanted company down below.
Perhaps Ally of The Spectacled Bean’s catchy title, It’s a Party in the Parsley about caterpillars, inspired the deck party? Definitely I was thinking about music, and my subconscious mind must have recalled reading Daisy Jones and the Six earlier this summer, and their struggle over whose name came first on the billing. But perhaps the true spark came from lying awake listening to the music from a street festival one holiday weekend, so loud I could hear the words of the songs from blocks away, long past midnight. I’m sure there was some Bruce Springsteen involved, and doesn’t that rap music often sound like a whole lot of droning going on!
I may have been thinking about children’s books, because I had been hearing lots of buzz recently about Tom Hanks playing Mr. Rogers (movie trailer below). What wonderful children’s programs we had back then. As a Canadian child I grew up watching Romper Room (Do Bee and Don’t Bees), Captain Kangaroo and a show called The Friendly Giant, who always placed miniature chairs around the fire for story time – here’s a chair for someone to curl up in and another rocking chair, before he asked you to look up, way up, and see the Friendly Giant. How calm and measured their voices were – so soothingly and reassuring to a small child. It looks like an interesting movie, but now the song “It’s A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” is stuck in my brain!
Creativity is a strange and wonderful thing. Who knows what goes into any creative idea – it’s a mishmash of things we’ve heard or seen or remembered all jumbled up in our minds, and hopefully something beautiful or at least somewhat entertaining comes out of it all. The most important thing is to pay attention, write it down and have some fun.
PS I had such fun with this, I’m now working on a fairy tale, Once Upon a Kitchen Reno…
The Real Ending:
(not for the squeamish, but useful information if you ever have to deal with a wasp nest in your siding).
I’ll spare you the details of the vole’s demise as I could not watch. (My grasscutter whacked it over the head with a shovel). I have not seen any of his brethren lurking about, although the Pest Control man warned me there might be more as they reproduce like rabbits, but his company did not deal in voles. The bulb digging has stopped, but I’m hoping for a Polar Vortex Winter in case there are more. Should you have voles, HappyHauteHome has an informative post on How To Get Rid of Voles in Your Yard or Garden.
If you have a wasp nest in your siding call the exterminator right away. Do not tape up the entry hole as they will just find another way out and into your house. Wasps can chew through drywall and crawl up small spaces beside radiators and hot water heating pipes. Do not waste time buying useless sprays from the hardware store which will not reach the area involved and only have contact but no residual action. As the wasp nest cost $170 to spray with pesticide powder, I delayed until after Labor Day weekend thinking I could save money and do it myself, but it had grown so large over a mere three week period, that I have been stuck with the smell of decaying wasp larvae in my bedroom for weeks. The smell is so bad I’m still sleeping in the spare bedroom. Apparently this putrid odor is normal, especially if it’s a big nest. As the guys cleaning the mildew off the siding alerted me to the problem on Aug 16, I was surprised it got that big so quickly. (By the time they got to Woodstock they were half a million strong.) It smelt like dead rodents, to the extent that I wondered if the Vole Brothers had somehow managed to crawl into the space between the wall and the floorboards to party with their Waspy friends, although that would be impossible, wouldn’t it? (I’m in need of some reassurance here). I’m at a loss for what to do now as the exterminator advised me to just wait, as tearing up the floorboards or drilling into the wall trying to find the nest would be an expensive proposition requiring a contractor and most would not be interested in such a small job. Nor is it covered by insurance, although it would be if the nest has pushed the insulation aside and the pipes freeze. I can only hope that the weeks of unseasonably hot and humid weather we have been having will help accelerate the decaying process and it will be over before I have to turn my hot water furnace rads on.
The strangest thing was a few nights after I had quarantined the bedroom trying to air it out, there was a Hoot Owl outside the window – who, who, who.
If it hadn’t been 2 am I would have gone out and tried to get a picture of it, but the sound was enough to identify it. The Wikipedia people say Hoot owls prey on small animals so maybe they wanted a midnight vole snack (or maybe The Who was attracted by the foul stench and just dropped into Woodstock Revisited)! It’s certainly not a pleasant way to end the summer, and I hope never to have a repeat performance so I’m going to caulk silicon all around the house as an ounce of prevention. Has anyone else had problems with wasps or voles this year?
PS. I went to a country musical theatre production this past weekend – lots of square dancing and fiddle music, which got me thinking – there could be a book sequel at that hootenanny…
We’re with the band…..