Insects and trees...Mother Nature at her finest

Long, long ago in a city not so far away, I had aspirations of becoming a teacher. I imagined passing on my love of literature to young people, or perhaps conducting science experiments in front of eager little eyes. As a matter of fact, when I applied to (all hail) The University of Georgia in the fall of my senior year, I even chose English education as my intended major.

The summer before I started college, my father scored for me Gwinnett County’s dream job for teenagers…a camp counselor with the Parks and Recreation Department. To make a long story short, it was during that summer that I realized I was not teacher material, and come fall, I couldn’t beat a path fast enough to my academic advisor to change my major. I was not meant to be a teacher.

I tell you all this to set the stage for what I did today. My daughter Maisy is in kindergarten at West Jackson Primary School, and has been pestering me for months to bring my praying mantids for show and tell. When I was contacted last week by her teacher and told it was “Insect Week,” I finally gave in and agreed. It was going to be a small little presentation, in front of Maisy, her 17 classmates and the Maisy heroines known as Mrs. Baker and Mrs. Chambers. Later last week, Mrs. Baker asked if I would mind if another class came to watch. By the end of last week, I was slated for a presentation in all six kindergarten classes.
So today was the day, and Maisy was beside herself with excitement. I arrived at 9:30 and the fun began. I have to hand it to the teachers…they have done a wonderful job with insect week. The kids knew all about molting and exoskeletons and incomplete metamorphosis. So I was able to use my big words and rest easy knowing they understood.

This is my mantis visual, and here I am getting crickets out to feed the hungry insect.

The kids were wonderful, asked good questions and were well behaved. By the time I left the first presentation, I felt confident although I was dripping sweat and losing my voice. The second one went even better than the first, with that particular teacher showing a real interest in the insects and even following me around sniffing my perfume. The last presentation, while still enjoyable, started going downhill. In a croaky voice I answered one question after another, not from the students, but from one of the teachers (I am not sure which one, as there were four in the room).
“I’ve always heard mantises (it’s mantids, lady) were poisonous. Is that true?”
“Aren’t they kind of creepy and weird?”
“Is it true if a mantis looks you in the eye that you’ll die?” (REALLY, TEACH?)
“I once saw a mantis that was three feet long. What kind was that?” And the final kicker…
“Aren’t you afraid you are going to run your husband off with all those bugs in the house?”

I have to credit the children in that class. They showed excitement and wonder in spite of their teacher (whoever she was) and I left there thinking I had added to their day. I hope so, anyway. But I am still glad I’m not a teacher.


Yesterday we had a wind storm in Hoschton that finally brought down the pine in the side yard. Well, I should say brought down half the pine in the side yard. Thankfully when the tree fell, it fell straight back toward the woods, missing the fence, the road and the neighbor’s yard. This is the same tree that has worried our across the street neighbor for four years. She was constantly “suggesting” we remove the tree, sending tree surgeons over to our house only to have them pronounce the tree healthy, and in general letting our tall Georgia pine ruin her life. While I know she is happy the tree is down, this opens up a whole new realm of worry for her…how long will it take us to remove the tree? Let’s see…with professional tree removal not part of our budget, I would say probably about six of Charley’s days off, spread over several weeks and assuming good weather on all those days and assuming that Charley doesn’t get fed up and decide to leave it where it is so that Good Neighbor can observe it every day as she drinks her morning coffee and gets indigestion from the sight of the tree. She came over and said, “Aren’t you glad one of your children wasn’t under it when it fell?” What kind of question is that? I can think of lots of things I prefer to be flattened by a tree, and my children aren’t even on the list. This is what remains of the bottom of the tree...
and this is the top of the tree.


In between the kindergarten presentation and the tree fiasco, I got the mail out of the box and was pleased to see an invitation to Honors Day at the high school. This means one thing…that Caitlyn is receiving at least one teacher’s yearly award for excellence. I could not be prouder. She has taken on a heavy schedule this year, with all the honors and AP classes she could possibly fit in, while also carrying a huge burden as stage manager for the winter play, Science Olympiad competitor and secretary, and all-around dependable student. The guessing will be fun to see which of her eight teachers chose her for their award. My bet is on the biology teacher, but Charley’s is on the government teacher. She doesn’t agree with him politically, but I think he respects her for speaking her mind and I think she’ll leave a lasting impression on him. Whatever it is, she has taken a delicious bite out of her first year of high school and has set the bar high for the rest of her years at JCCHS.

So we worked on the tree…all day long. Thanks to our good friend and Charley’s cousin Jeff for loaning us his chainsaw. We cleared all the fallen limbs and started on the large trunk of tree on the ground. As some of you may know, I am terribly allergic to pine and pine oil, a condition that makes things like Christmas and living in Georgia somewhat difficult. However, with the help of a good allergy pill I persevered. All was well until I stabbed myself with the largest pine needle ever observed by man. Within a minute I felt like I had been shot up with a crazy drug. I could literally feel the poison coursing through my veins.

Pine-induced hives. They will fade in a few hours with the help of some good old Uncle Ben(adryl).

That’s when we called it a day. Never fear, the pine will eventually be moved, but it is time to move on to more important things, like the grilled steak Charley promised me, and the tent he put on the deck for the kids to enjoy our stargazing adventures tonight. Who knows? The tent might even be visible from across the street, where it might distract Good Neighbor just long enough to forget the tree is still there.