My assignment out here is to talk to people about an upcoming election. There’s a house I’ve visited a few times with a doorstep covered in dead bees. They crunch underfoot when you walk up. No one is ever home, which is probably good because I’m a little flinchy awaiting the inevitable swarm.

I pass an abandoned bee farm a few times a day as well. Sky blue hives sit in a golden overgrown field behind a boarded up house. It’s visually stunning but I’m worried if I try to photograph it a bunch of neglected bees will chase me.

And I’ve just learned that figs contain digested wasps. The female dies inside the pod post-pollination and is digested by enzymes in the fruit. Which is to say, I’ve been eating stingers all week. 

The guacamole sandwich, however, I did not eat. It got slimey and gross. We’re going to put yesterday’s lunch on the failboard. I ended up with a turkey sandwich from Subway. 

I have to run an errand this morning so breakfast will be waspfigs and kiwis.