I can't put my arms down!

Remember that line from the movie "A Christmas Story"? Ralphie's little brother in the big poofy snowsuit? I'm not wearing a snowsuit, but after two hours of painting up above my head this afternoon, I'm feeling just like him.

Some background: When I moved into my house, I noticed great big bees hovering around the balcony off my bedroom. I'm used to bees going away, so I wasn't bothered. But these bees didn't go away. Why? Because they lived in the wood in my balcony. They're carpenter bees, which for some reason like to burrow into wood instead of making regular beehives in a tree somewhere.

I called the Orkin guy. He sprayed, but he also told me that carpenter bees are really hard to get rid of because while eventually all the bees fly away, they're genetically programmed to remember where they started out. Kind of like the swallows in San Juan Capistrano: they come back to the same nest. So if you don't kill them ALL, they come back the next spring. I was hoping the Orkin guy was thorough.

Nope. The next spring, not as many bees, but still a few. The Orkin guy came and sprayed again. The only way to REALLY get rid of carpenter bees-- and even this isn't guaranteed-- is to paint the wood after they're all gone for the winter. They don't like painted wood. Maybe it tastes bad. Maybe it gunks up their mouths as they burrow into the wood. I dunno. I figured a couple of hours of painting and the cost of a gallon of paint is worth a try, especially compared to the cost of the Orkin guy coming in the spring.

Quick reminder: BALCONY. I'm short. Not that the balcony is all that tall, but I had to stand on a stepstool and paint over my head for two hours. I don't think arms are supposed to be in that position for long. I'll let you know in May if the muscle sacrifice worked.

And just for the record, I did vote this morning . . .