August 10, 2008
Ever since I mowed a lawn for $5.00 (split two ways) and had yellow-jackets come after me with a vengeance, I have hated the creatures. I had about 50 stings/bites. If I had been allergic, I'd be dead. I learned from the experience, though. In fact, I have learned from many encounters with wasps and hornets: don't run. Stay calm. The last time I found a nest of yellow-jackets, I walked up with a can of spray, and loaded the nest with it. They swarmed all around me, and I just stayed still. When it was possible, I got a shovel, and closed their access. I never got stung.
This time I was not so lucky. A few weeks ago, I noticed an increase in yellow-jacket activity. I finally found where they were building the nest: in one of my deck stairs. I sprayed through the access point, and the activity diminished. However, a week later it was back. I tried it again. Same thing. Today, I decided it was time to take the tread off the stair and be done with it. Annie was inside. It would have gone better if the screws were not so old, and the heads were not so bad. I removed the screws I could with no problem. They did not seem to even notice. Then I brought out the drill bits to remove the heads from the bad screws, which accounted for about half of them. I wrenched up the tread, and they went nuts. I stayed calm, but it was apparently not sufficient given their state of agitation.
The one that stung my arm was so adamant about it that he could not get his butt off my arm. I watched for microseconds as he kept drilling into me before I flipped him with hopefully enough force to end his life. I went still again. A minute later, I felt something under my shirt sleeve. I forgot my training, and thought that if I hit it fast enough, it would not get me. Of course, I was wrong. That one smarts like crazy. In fact, I may have missed him. Ten minutes later, my sister called right when I felt something moving under my shirt again. The freakin' thing was apparently enjoying my armpit. I lifted my shirt and stayed in a zen-like state. I didn't see him go, but he apparently left.
I sprayed the nest, and watched very irritated yellow-jackets struggle for life with no remorse. Freakin' bastards. The nest was big enough that I could not get it out without pulling the other tread off. That was impossible given the state of the screws, so I cut it in half. Once I decided it was safe, I showed it to Annie, who thought it was amazing. She is absolutely my girl. Without concern, she started asking questions about how we would raise honeybees, which we had discussed in the past. God, I love that little girl.
At any rate, the nest is gone. I am going to wait until tomorrow to put the tread back to lengthen the time that it looks like an undesirable place to set up a home. Yellow-jackets are the devil. They serve no purpose in nature. Even if you tell me that they secrete an enzyme that could cure cancer, I think I would still feel the same way. They are aggressive, and damn it, they hurt like hell. Kill them all, but save the honey-bees!
Ow, ow, ow...
This time I was not so lucky. A few weeks ago, I noticed an increase in yellow-jacket activity. I finally found where they were building the nest: in one of my deck stairs. I sprayed through the access point, and the activity diminished. However, a week later it was back. I tried it again. Same thing. Today, I decided it was time to take the tread off the stair and be done with it. Annie was inside. It would have gone better if the screws were not so old, and the heads were not so bad. I removed the screws I could with no problem. They did not seem to even notice. Then I brought out the drill bits to remove the heads from the bad screws, which accounted for about half of them. I wrenched up the tread, and they went nuts. I stayed calm, but it was apparently not sufficient given their state of agitation.
The one that stung my arm was so adamant about it that he could not get his butt off my arm. I watched for microseconds as he kept drilling into me before I flipped him with hopefully enough force to end his life. I went still again. A minute later, I felt something under my shirt sleeve. I forgot my training, and thought that if I hit it fast enough, it would not get me. Of course, I was wrong. That one smarts like crazy. In fact, I may have missed him. Ten minutes later, my sister called right when I felt something moving under my shirt again. The freakin' thing was apparently enjoying my armpit. I lifted my shirt and stayed in a zen-like state. I didn't see him go, but he apparently left.
I sprayed the nest, and watched very irritated yellow-jackets struggle for life with no remorse. Freakin' bastards. The nest was big enough that I could not get it out without pulling the other tread off. That was impossible given the state of the screws, so I cut it in half. Once I decided it was safe, I showed it to Annie, who thought it was amazing. She is absolutely my girl. Without concern, she started asking questions about how we would raise honeybees, which we had discussed in the past. God, I love that little girl.
At any rate, the nest is gone. I am going to wait until tomorrow to put the tread back to lengthen the time that it looks like an undesirable place to set up a home. Yellow-jackets are the devil. They serve no purpose in nature. Even if you tell me that they secrete an enzyme that could cure cancer, I think I would still feel the same way. They are aggressive, and damn it, they hurt like hell. Kill them all, but save the honey-bees!
Ow, ow, ow...