Document 541
Craiters: 17 - E Wasps' Nest
Author(s): Alexander Fenton
Copyright holder(s): Alexander Fenton
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An aal freen o mine, an Edinburgh lady, hid tae move till a different hoose fin her een wis teen ower for e biggin o an extension till e Royal Edinburgh Infirmary. She hid a big gairden wi a widden shed in't, complete wi a cat-hole in e door. She speert if I'd like it, since she hid nae mair eese for't, sae I took it tae bits tae get it shiftit an cairtit it hame on e reef rack o an aal Rover I hid at e time, makkin siveral journeys. I set it up again at e tap o ma gairden, in anaith a haathorn tree. E reef hid tae be covert wi new tarred felt, an in anaith e plankin o e reef wis a kinna plywid linin, leavin a spacie o maybe twa inches.
E shed's gaan deen a bittie noo, bit it's heen its history. A cat files taks up residence in't, usin a cat-hole at's ay ere. It leaves a catty stink inside bit seein e shed's nae used a lot except as a store for orrals, it disna mak. Inoo ere's a new development. E local fox at trails across e back gairden in e gloamin hid been tryin tae quarry oot a hole in anaith e door, though e grun's gey hard. I'd fain let it go aheid bit I'd niver hear e eyn o't, an forby, e feedin o fox pups wid mak a bit o a sotter. Sae I laid a big brick in e middle o e scrape, an e fox his gien up e unequal battle.
Bit fit I wis gaan tae say wis at ae ear a gang o wasps took up eir heidquarters atween e plywid an e reef. Ye couldna hae gotten em oot withoot dismantlin e linin, an nae wye ye cd dee at withoot gettin stung. Sae e shed hid a simmer's holiday, naebody geed intill't, though I did tak e odd chance tae open e door an hear e bizzin, bit a buddy disna bide lang amon sic neebers. Simmer wore on an winter cam, an shortly wi a touch o frost ere wis silence. I took aff e linin syne, an lo an behold there wis e bonniest range o flattent kaim, shapit tae fit e space, at ye cd iver imagine. It wis a fyow days' winner. I pat back e linin, aifter shiftin e kaim, bit e waspies niver cam back. I offert e kaim till e Museum, bit oh ey’d enyeuch specimens tae keep em gaan.
Anither time, ere wis an eruption o wee reed spiders inside e shed door, up aboot e tap hinge, in e middle o a jungle o wobs. Ey cam oot o a big fite cocoon, an spread oot fae't like sunbeams. I'd ay a likit tae ken fit kinna craiters ey'd been, bit like mony anither thing in life, ye niver jist come upon e richt answer.
Ae simmer, nae e same een, I noticet ere wis an aafa wasps aboot again. Gin ye kept yer back door open on gweed days ey’d be intill e hoose, sure's fate, as aften as no in twas if nae threes. Ye cd ay tell be e different bum fither it wis a wasp ir a honey bee. Ye cd tell if ey were roused tee, though maybe it was fowk gettin fleggit an flappin aboot at rouset em. Syne naething for't bit tae tak a faalt-up Scotsman till em, battin em oot o e air an watchin faar ey landit, or aan giein em eir quietus against e windae glaiss. Bit maistly I wis able tae manoeuvre em intill e open eyn o a big spunk box. Naebody smokit in e hoose, an e fire wisna aften lit, sae e spunks wis only half deen aifter a lot o ears, an at left space enyeuch for a jyle till I cd get till e door. E box is gettin e waar o e weer noo throwe bein used as a wasp an bee trap. Ye'd get e openin ower e craiterie on e windae, slide e lid shut, takin care nae tae squasht, syne opent e box again at e door tae let it flee. It ay gies ye a decent Christian feelin, even if naething else dis, tae be savin e life o a beastie.
Ae day fin I cam hame I wis tell't in nae uncertain terms at ere wis a wasps’ nest in e hedge. Trimmin o e hedge hid been gaan on an at eence e high pitcht buzz o warnin an it wis lucky naebody’d got stung. Aifter I’d been maitit, I geed tae hae a look. It wisna a big nest, nae then. Ey’d jist startit tae mak it, biggin’t roon a finger-sized branch tae gie’t a gweed haad. It wis like an upside doon broony grey ingin, a smaa baaie, wi wasps wirkin awa at layin mair stuff on till e leafs ey were formin een on tap o e ither, fleein back an fore wi material jist like reglar workmen, though I doot ey widna ay be knockin aff for piece-times.
I dinna ay dee fit I’m tell’t, an I didna get redd o’t, an I got a lot o pleasher oot o watchin’t growin bigger ilky day. Ye cd see e wasps rovin oot fae't, maybe landin on e widden seat o e wee lad's swing an chowin awa at e safter bits o wid tae get cellulose, syne fleein back tae big it on till e hinmist grey section ey'd been wirkin at. Fin e young lad cam roon tae see's, I'd tak im oot till e gairden an haad im up tae see es fairlie. E wis gey teen wi't, bit e ithers wis aye squallachin at’s tae be canny an at made im nervous. Weel, e nest grew an grew, an wir neebers cam tae ken o't tee, for e hedge wis shared een.
Ere's naebody likes tae be stung, an I'm amon em. Eence fin I wis a loon, I wis playin some hidin game in a girse park, an a bee got me jist ahin e lug. It's nae a gweed place onywye, for ere's nae a lot o room tae alloo for swallin. Though it wis sair, I thocht little enyeuch aboot it an did naething aboot it. I geed tae ma bed fine at nicht, an begod neesht mornin fin I tried tae rise an get ma clyes on, afore gaan doon e stairs for ma brakfist, ere wis naething I cd dee. Ma muscles hid a kinna seized up. At lat's air e skweel for e day, onywye, an it wore aff till I wis aa richt come nicht, bit I fairly got a fleg. Sae I'm aafa canny wi bees an wasps, though I winna say I’m feert at em. I jist fin em aafa interestin craiters wi eir skeely wyes o wirkin. Sae 'Lat-a-be an lat-a-be', as e Harray man said till e lobster, an if I'm peaceable wi em, maistly ey’re peaceable wi me. Es wis e principle I wis tryin tae let e wee lad see, as we steed afore e nest, wasps takin past wir lugs, gaan an comin, files hoverin a bit tae check on’s, bit nae deein ony hairm. Ye can tell, onywye, fae eir bizz, if ey’re in an ill teen.
E days wore on an e nest swallt, as aye e idder ring wis eekit ontill ‘t. If ye tappit e branch, ere wis a richt chorus inside an ye’d tae be ready tae clear oot fin e fit-sodgers poppit eir noses oot o e doorie. Ye began tae winner foo lang ey’d stick at it, an foo big e nest wid get. I’d tak a wanner oot twa ir three times a day, fair teen up wi em, an as a psychologist wid say, gettin ‘emotionally involved’.
Ah weel, we aa geed awa for a lang wik-eyn, I dinna min faar till or fit for, an got back on e Monday nicht. Aifter a lang drive ye’re glaid enyeuch tae settle doon, an it wis neeshy nicht ir I thocht tae hae a confab wi ma waspies. It wis funny ere wis nae soon as I steppit ower e gairden bed ontill a flat steen I’d putten doon as a viewin platform. I drew a branch back fae e front o’t, gey canny. Still nae soon. Nae doot aboot it, ere wis naething ere. I could see nae reason, till I peepit roon e side o e nest an saa a hole in’t near e boddem. I doot ere’d been some ethnic cleansin, wi an antrin puffie o gas. I niver heard a wird aboot it, an I niver speert – bit wisn’t it jist an aafa peety?
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Craiters: 17 - E Wasps' Nest. 2024. In The Scottish Corpus of Texts & Speech. Glasgow: University of Glasgow. Retrieved 14 October 2024, from http://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=541.
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"Craiters: 17 - E Wasps' Nest." The Scottish Corpus of Texts & Speech. Glasgow: University of Glasgow, 2024. Web. 14 October 2024. http://www.scottishcorpus.ac.uk/document/?documentid=541.
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