Overheard one day last week: Dan Warner to his mower-mate, That’s the biggest one I ever saw. Wow, said the other. Both backed away from the gigantic bald-faced hornets nest that has been a-building on the southern wall of our house since spring.

Probably started out about the size of an acorn, Tony Jadczak commented. Tony is Mr. Bee for the Maine Department of Agriculture; and, yes, hornets are bees and bees are hornets and wasps, too, and not far from ants. One common trait, all live in colonies.

Staggering to think of all that’s gone on since spring. Mrs. Clinton dropped out of the presidential race. Russia invaded Georgia. Rumford got a new town manager. China hosted the summer Olympics. Dixfield lost a police chief then got him back again. For the tenth season, the Rumford Center Church harvested “God’s Potatoes.” There was a Democratic convention and a Republican convention. Friends and family came to visit. Hurricane season started early and isn’t ready to quit. Fanny, Freddie, and Lehman Brothers have fallen. And happy crowds in Chicago and Portland are singing along to “Momma Mia.”

While we weren’t looking, the hornets kept on building – no subprime nonsense – adding on to their colony’s community center and nursery on the south-facing wall of our house.

Our extra-large hornets, variously “social wasps,” “white-faced,” “bald-faced,” and “paper,” depending, Tony said, on what part of the county you’re from, are more focused than an incumbent in primary season. The hornets know what they have to do: Scrape little mites of wood, chew till moist, spread it on the nest. Keep building

I flash my headlights at oncoming cars whose drivers apparently do not know about the Maine law requiring headlights be on when windshield wipers are. Human beings have a lot of laws, but the hornet drones have only a few: Eat caterpillars, flies, spiders; mate with the queens; keep building; hibernate. Oh yes, one more: the only thing better than stinging once is stinging once again.

How big is our hornet colony’s nest? About the size of two and a half deflated basketballs long, one wide. Big. So big that Tony Jadczak suspects there are maybe two or three queens therein instead of the usual one.

Maybe our hornets nest would qualify for “Ripley’s Believe It or Not.” Silly me. Tony indicated that though ours was doubtless a record-contender for New England, there are much larger nests, in Texas, for example. Later I found a picture online of a woman, maybe 5 feet, 5 inches, standing beside a hornets nest that at 6 feet, 5 inches high and 5 feet across dwarfed her.

That hornets nest was deserted, of course. Hornets never nest in the same place twice. Once winter sets in, the hornets will hibernate up the hill behind us, and that big nest will be ours.

“Ripley’s Believe It or Not” has been good for a gasp or a chuckle since it was first published in The New York Globe in 1918. Ripley himself, in his distinctive style, drew the cartoon panel until his death in 1949. Every artist since has replicated that style.

“Believe It or Not” goes on, unbelievably, and big: Ripley Entertainment, Inc. owns the trademarks, “Ripley’s” and “Ripley’s Believe It or Not.” A diverse enterprise, its network includes all kinds of offerings and opportunities. Franchises for Believe It or Not museums! Instead of a casino, why not a Believe It or Not museum in the River Valley? Fun for all ages and lots not to believe.

Linda Farr Macgregor lives with her husband, Jim, in Rumford. She is a freelance writer. Contact her at [email protected].