The Bunker is a Mess

As I look around the Bunker all I see is a big mess. Boxes piled up in the corner with cobwebs, paint brushes stuck in jars, tubes of oil paint stuck to the shelf because they like to leak, paintings still hanging on the walls undisturbed by months of apathy, trash everywhere.

I hate moving.

The Bunker is my studio in Marin County. It's the size of a one-car garage, finished out nicely by the owner who originally wanted to lease it out as office space. A narrow staircase leads to a basement I use mostly as storage space. It is amazing how much junk a person can collect. I had no idea moving the contents of the Bunker was going to be such a hassle. 

The idea of moving is never fun. It is well known that relocation is a top-three stresser for people, right along with death and taxes. So I know it's going to be a major headache.  

The junk is piling up. I hate moving.

The only saving grace behind a move is that it provides an opportunity to fill up a dumpster with unwanted junk. That tennis ball I saw in the parking lot, which I thought at the time would be a nice desk ornament, goes to the dumpster. The used artist stool, en plein air easel, and ugly second-hand frames are being tossed. The dozen large burlap coffee bean bags I collected from the coffee shop I will keep; they are like works of art, after all. I try to keep in check my tendency to collect junk. It's clearly not working. 

To make the move easier I rented a small storage unit. Storage facilities are creepy. When you visit, it's like entering a mausoleum. Cool, quiet, calm, eerie. We all collect junk we will never use. I think most people are hoarders. They don't admit it. Like me, they hate moving, too. Storage units are junk magnets. 

I'm glad I have the time. Moving is hell when you are under the pressure of having to meet a deadline. I have a three week window to get things done. Time is on my side for a change, if I don't waste it. Tomorrow I'll make another run to the storage unit and hope I have room for that old soccer ball I found while walking a trail in the foothills of Mount Tamalpais.

Seven Things I Learned From My Battle with a Hornets Nest

I spent three days with a hornets nest this week.  Here are seven things I have learned.

1.  Be prepared before going into battle.

Just above my doorway, behind a porch light, in the small hole leading into the netherworld between the exterior siding and the wall boards, I hear them. Buzzing. Thousands of hornets are building a condo inside the wall near my front door. I can hear them moving in. They began attacking me a few days ago as I left the house, swarming around my head. I hate snotty neighbors.

The field of battle. Persistence paid off and I survived.

I knew a fierce battle was about to begin.  I had a can of spider spray I used recently to kill a black creepy crawly thingy in my basement.  I used the remaining spray on this new threat, but evidently spider poison is like dessert to hornets. The buzzing continued. I was pissed. Be warned, spider spray will not kill hornets.

2.  He who hesitates may get stung.

I made a trip to the store and purchased a spray can of RAID hornets and wasps poison. "That will kill the little bastards!" Returning to the field of battle I began to spray the buggers, but forgot to twist off the safety nozzle. Nothing happened. As I hesitated, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong, they attacked! I ran inside the house, slamming the door, cussing my pathetic show of force.

3.  Strength in numbers does not guarantee success.

After twisting off the safety nozzle, I practiced a shot of spray by taking target at the trash can. Yes, it's working now! I'm ready to go back on the offensive. They have me outnumbered but my secret weapon, a spray can full of poison will take them out. You may have more men at your disposal, but I have the fire power.

4.  Watch your ass when fleeing the scene.

Satisfied I was winning the battle, if not the war, I turned to leave. A soldier hornet assassin decided to take revenge on me and targeted my left ear. I slapped the little buzzer but it got away. "Get the hell out of my ear you little fuckterd!"

5.  Spies may live among us.

I won a massive and decisive battle, killing most of the invaders. However, to clinch the victory my plan was to caulk up the hole and seams of the exterior siding, effectively closing off any remaining hornets cowardly hiding behind the wall. It wasn't easy. I had caulk all over the wall and my clothes. I went inside the house to clean up. A very angry hornet followed me in, taking a seat on the rim of my trash can. Die, sucker! "Say hello to my little friend," I said, as I sprayed the hornet with what seemed to be a gallon of wasp poison.

6.  Size doesn't matter.

Bees, hornets, wasps, flies, mesquitoes. I hate them all. They can do a lot of damage. How can things so small cause such problems? I'm not worried about the large dangers in life, like getting hit by a bus or struck by lightening. I'm concerned about the smallest of things. A cancer cell can be really scary. Hornets can all die a painful death, as far as I'm concerned.

7.  Persistence wins battles.

I'm reminded once again that persistence is the key to overcoming most problems. Giving up should never be an option. Also, remember spider spray is only for spiders.