I'm not one for giving names to non-sentient objects, but my sister Jeanne used to love to name things. Everything. She named her cars. Once she named a recliner Bobby.
|Bobby the Barcalounger, or something like him|
I don't engage in that wacky habit, except for one situation. When a blooming bush buzzes with...well, buzzing things, I call it "buzzilicious."
I have a plant called an eryngium, also known as sea holly, in my silver garden.
This plant, whose weid spiky blooms I cherish, is this year's buzzilicious.
It's buzzing not only with furry honey bees:
And even a tiny, half size version of a wasp, a creepy little thing about half an inch long.
I've never seen these things before. They creep me out, partly because there are dozens of them out there, and partly because they remind me of flying ants, which to me are not only ugly but always up to no good.
I turned to the Internet, using the search term, "bees the size of flying ants." I found that these tiny buzzers are vespid wasps. I give them wide berth. I suppose they're doing me a favor by pollinating my eryngium. But they still creep me out.
And I'm not gonna name any of them Bobby.