Richmond, BC.

Where old tomb-raiding archeologists go to retire, and in accordance with municipal by-laws trade in bullwhip for spindly length of driftwood.

Arthropod Issues: Part Three.

Much commotion in the breakfast nook this morning. "Dad! Jumpy is eating a queen ant, and is being chased by a beetle!"

What excitement. I think the beetle was just trying to find a way out, having blundered in the open kitchen door.

It's some sort of longhorn flower beetle, which I doubt had any interest in Jumpy or her breakfast.

It got too close though, and Jumpy jumped backwards-zot! It's amazing how they can do that, on a smooth, vertical surface no less.

The state of things.

It's an odd, cool day. Stupefied bumblebees are staggering around on the sidewalk and lawn. A man in shorts and a t-shirt passes a woman in a down jacket. They look at each other suspiciously.

We're due for heat, tomorrow or Tuesday, which will be most welcome. But right now, before the thermal onslaught, the front garden is at its peak. The Santolina is swarming the sidewalk. I often see people stopping to stare at it, or take a picture.

The blue elderberry is reaching up up up. It gets bigger every year. Our previous next door neighbour didn't appreciate Big Blue. The new neighbours love it.

Meanwhile, in the leaky old birdbath, things are getting completely out of hand.

Arthropod Issues: Part Two.

I was upstairs typing something. At some point I became vaguely aware of a WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP etc. from downstairs. I didn't bother to question what it might be. It could be anything.

WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP

Silence.

Young daughter appeared at my elbow, jarring me from my typing. She held a purple plastic fly-swatter shaped like a butterfly. It had obviously seen recent action.

"There was a million queen ants in the kitchen, and I had to smush them."

"Oh," I said.

"I had to do it, because you're lazy."

I have spared you all a visual of the breakfast nook window. Easily a million.

Arthropod Issues: Part One.

Office Jumpy on window blind.

I have trained our children to appreciate jumping spiders. They now cheerfully refer to them as "jumpies."

There's one who lives in the breakfast nook, and one in my office. Both are always in plain view, ready to jump on things. Today, third day of summer vacation, it was discovered that there is one in son's room too.

Now I have a pouty seven-year-old daughter who wants one for her bedroom. I have to give up Office Jumpy, or it will be a long summer.

Fan World.

Today I did something totally amazing. I made a fan stop by looking at it. It had been running all night, and then I looked at it and it stopped. It wouldn't start again. Dead.

I had not previously realized I have this power, and vow to use it only for good.

But then there was the problem of being down a fan, with the first heatwave of the summer due to hit next Tuesday or so. I realized that I had better head to Fan World ASAP, because you know what happens on the day after the first warm night. That's right, nary a fan to be had, except from guys selling them out of the backs of vans at extortionate prices. I am not a fan of the fan van man, so on this cool and drizzly Canada Day went to Fan World and picked out the above machine, which is alleged to be a fan, although it looks more like a member of Singapore's skyline. The important thing is that it blows.

I'll try not to look at it the wrong way.