My porch is on my porch. By which I mean, someone is slowly, but steadily, moving the header beams and posts of my porch down to the porch deck. This happens a few grains of saw dust at a time, but it happens inexorably
Some of our guests think we have bumble bees. We don't. We have those industrious carpenter bees who live to excavate tunnels in the softwood of our cedar porch.
I guess it would be okay if these little guys were just digging a small hole, but once they get about an inch in, they take a right or left turn and keep burrowing. Before too long it is conceivable that my porch roof will be supported by hollow beams (hollow, except for the baby carpenter bees that soon hatch out. They are also never satisfied with one hole. . .
If our house falls down while we are in Australia, at least you'll know why.
In the nonce, I need to go to the steel wool and dowel rod store. Can you guess why?