menschmaschine
Well-Known Member
So I'm mowing the lawn today... dooh-do-do, la-la-la... AHH!, HOLY SH**!, AHH!!!!
Mowed right over a fresh new yellow jacket nest!
Arms flailing, legs akimbo, I run and dance screaming like a little girl into the house, only to realize they are still on me, stinging my arms, legs and chest (under my shirt!). When the dance is over, there are 5 dead bees on my kitchen floor, 6 stings on my body, and one pissed off mother-****er (me).
On top of this, the push-mower, which has an automatic handle-release shut-off that I conveniently disabled with a piece of string, is still running out in the yard 6 inches from the nest in the ground. So after the adrenaline slows down, I grab a 10-foot wooden pole, fasten a hook on the end, and gingerly step towards the lawn mower to hook the string and yank it to pull it off the mower handle, thereby shutting it off.
So the front lawn is half mowed at this point. Can't leave it like that. So, I send my 6-month pregnant wife out for some wasp spray, spray the sh** out of the hole in the ground while the bees are hovering around it, shove a wooden stake into the hole, don some long pants and a hooded sweatshirt (it's 85°F outside) and finish mowing the lawn without getting stung again. My neighbor, unknowing as to what was going on, later told me he thought I stopped homebrewing and started growing something.
I've stepped in yellow jacket nests in my youth and saw a kid at summer camp go into shock and nearly die from being stung 40 or so times, so I hope to think I sensed the situation I was in before it got that far for me today. My homebrew this evening is quite soothing to the stinging lumps on my body!
Mowed right over a fresh new yellow jacket nest!
Arms flailing, legs akimbo, I run and dance screaming like a little girl into the house, only to realize they are still on me, stinging my arms, legs and chest (under my shirt!). When the dance is over, there are 5 dead bees on my kitchen floor, 6 stings on my body, and one pissed off mother-****er (me).
On top of this, the push-mower, which has an automatic handle-release shut-off that I conveniently disabled with a piece of string, is still running out in the yard 6 inches from the nest in the ground. So after the adrenaline slows down, I grab a 10-foot wooden pole, fasten a hook on the end, and gingerly step towards the lawn mower to hook the string and yank it to pull it off the mower handle, thereby shutting it off.
So the front lawn is half mowed at this point. Can't leave it like that. So, I send my 6-month pregnant wife out for some wasp spray, spray the sh** out of the hole in the ground while the bees are hovering around it, shove a wooden stake into the hole, don some long pants and a hooded sweatshirt (it's 85°F outside) and finish mowing the lawn without getting stung again. My neighbor, unknowing as to what was going on, later told me he thought I stopped homebrewing and started growing something.
I've stepped in yellow jacket nests in my youth and saw a kid at summer camp go into shock and nearly die from being stung 40 or so times, so I hope to think I sensed the situation I was in before it got that far for me today. My homebrew this evening is quite soothing to the stinging lumps on my body!