For the first time in my life, I have stopped destroying the wasp nests that are built around my house underneath the eaves mostly. Since writing the environmental fiction books that I wrote this summer, I have decided that although I am nothing more than a fictional writer at the moment, that as an inhabitant of this planet, I need to be more real than my writing. Strangely enough, I have not been stung this summer, by a single wasp and I have not even been attacked. In years past I had been both stung and attacked by the red wasps. There are no red wasps this year. I guess my real test, will be if there are ever any red wasps that build their nests on the house I live in. I also now wonder where the red wasps have gone? A few years ago, I probably would have not written anything about flying insects. This is what happens to you when you write a few books and really start to think about things. I am just not the same after I write about something and think about it in different ways...
Life has many surprises.
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