. . . . in which i am back in the old house. i am in the back room sitting on the sofa. i notice one, then hundreds, maybe thousands of wasps entering through the high window. i flee and shut the door behind me. i tell sue that there is a problem and that i will call my pest control guy. she gestures passively that she is unhappy with his prior work by pointing to the mess under the stairs, mostly hers. there is a system of cables that are awkwardly placed, but i can’t figure out how it could be done better. in exasperation i end the conversation by outlining that there are thousands of wasps in the house, and that she would have to figure it out, in spite of her obstinacy . . . .
wasps