Humming along

I have so many red colored hummingbird feeders that I think Cuba and a couple of Russian satellites in the sky can see them hanging just about anywhere in my yard. The other birds are a little jealous of my devotion to the hummingbird world and ever since I read it is dangerous for hummingbirds to drink out of dirty sugar water receptacles, I have been on a crusade to not let anything to happen to them while on my watch.

I swear I’ve never scrubbed my own kid’s baby bottles this hard. And that goes double for the homemade cooked and preferred sugar water food. I’ve lost count of how many gallons of water and poured pounds of sugar I’ve used to make this delicate formula that these mini-flutter machines swoop down to. Don’t get me started on red food coloring. All I know is that I’ve got my formula for this years Halloween blood.

That could be a slight exaggeration, but it sure feels that way when the brew is bubbling and causing the millions of hummingbird wings and their needle bills to anxiously peck away at my window as they await their dinner bell.

I do have to say I find it suspicious that I’ve never actually heard them hum. Maybe my hearing aids need a tune up.

BBB and I risked life and limb creating a colorful garden in an effort to coax the bees and the hummingbirds to my banquet of yummy flowers growing in our summer garden. It’s a smorgasbord of pollen. They don’t call me “Black Thumb” for nothing but try as I’m might, I’m constantly shocked at my short comings when it comes to growing and not killing. Apparently, it’s easier said than done.

Although I know I’m the unofficial poster child for most garden catalogs like Brecks and Spring Hill (under the category of “What not to do when planting a garden”) you’d think by now we’d eventually acquire the ultimate goal of creating a bee haven and hummingbird paradise.

Unfortunately, I can no longer venture outside near the garden since I created the epic center of buzzing. The bees have discovered that saying “Why buy the cow when the milk is free?” with a twist that apparently goes triple for heading directly to the sugar sauce, and skipping the tedious task of pollinating for the same intention. Glad I could help.

However, I can’t anymore because the buzzing from the world’s largest swam of bees, no see ums, mosquitoes, and curious wasps, and dreaded fire ants prevents me from checking into my above-mentioned garden even when armed with life saving swatters and epi pens. Pray tell where are the hummingbirds? Where, I dare say are those tiny little miracles of flight that have boycotted my entire domain (except for the occasional hummingbird who hasn’t gotten word of their exodus). Lord knows I would personally pour boiling water on fire ants if I wasn’t so clumsy. I’m sighing because at least the raccoons like my cooking.

So, I have given up on luring these little Humdingers to my backyard. Maybe one day I’ll spy a group of wayward hummers pointing to their girlfriends while saying “Be sure to drop by this place the next time you’re around this next of the woods. That old lady is a bit cheap in the sugar water department but the kitchen’s always open!”