Somebody (Anna I think, maybe GFN) asked for the hornet story the other day and I've got a minute here so I shall divulge it. I come out looking like a bit of a pinhead but what else is new.
I was building a road on a piece of remote property for some very nice, but exceedingly citified people. They apparently considered it normal to ingest a handful of hornets and yellowjackets with every bite of a sandwich on their country retreat, and had therefore apparently never made any discreet inquiries as to where their plentiful venomous friends might be congregating nearby.
It didn't take me long to find out, although it is exceedingly difficult to make a discreet inquiry on a bulldozer.
I hadn't gone ten feet when I felt something rather unpleasant on the end of my nose.
Now for the unitiated, this is the order of pain for common stinging insects.
1. Garden variety wasp. A stinging type of pain.
2. Yellow jacket or meat bee. A stinging type of pain coupled with a small hammer type blow.
3. Honey bees. A stinging pain and a considerable hammer blow.
4. Hornets. An acute stinging pain coupled with something like a haymaker thrown by George Foreman in his prime.
The fellow on the end of my nose was soon joined by a considerable consort of his brethren in a similar mood. As I realized what was occurring things heated up considerably in the cab.
I flicked the gear shift into reverse and began with my hands a concerted effort to thwart the official policy of my new acquantances which was apparently to carry me off to their queen for a quick snack. The action was fast and furious and I gave as good as I got. But there isn't much satisfaction in squashing a hornet
after he discharges his weapon in a tender part of your anatomy, especially when there's about five hundred and twenty three of his comrades waiting in the wings for their shot.
After a few seconds I simultaneously realized that there was an enormous nest of hornets about one foot from my head and I WASN'T MOVING away from it.
In my understandable preoccupation with squishing as many of the little creeps as i could I had neglected to lift the blade and had never moved an inch the whole time I was swatting away.
I raised it and began moving. Whereto, was of no concern as long as it was away from my new friends. Presently I got far enough away from their precious queen that they lost interest in me. I got off the Cat and walked over to my baffled clients and plopped down in a chair. I began counting stings and got to around 18 which surprised me greatly as it had felt like about 1800.
I have never had an allergic reaction to a sting of any kind but took the precaution of taking a couple of Benedryl. After the bridge of my nose started merging with my cheek bone and the back of my hands started swelling I decided to call it a day. One of the people rode with me back to my house just in case I had a reaction. The whole way I could feel the toxin spreading through my lymphatic system along the inside of my arms and down my sides raising hives as it went. By the time I got home I was essentially one large hive about the color of a sun dried tomato.
Here's where I really look like an idiot. My wife wanted to take me to the emergency room and I nearly agreed, but instead I took some more Benadryl and a baking soda bath and told her if my throat began to feel odd we'd go. Fortunately I peaked and got better in a few hours but I can't believe i took the risk of not going to the hospital. I know, very,very dumb. I looked pretty similar to a combination of Bozo the clown with Popeye's arms for the next day or two.
But the story has a very happy ending. I still had to make the road and the nest was still there. What to do?
My solution was elegantly simple. I got a large shotgun, a box of shells and drove up to within about ten feet of the nest cracked my window just far enough and proceeded a bombardment which reduced their cozy home to mere rubble.
In order to not offend my wife I will confess there are some things more satisfying than blowing that nest to smithereeneys, but its a pretty close call. Just kidding, hun.
There is no moral to this story that I can think of other than hornets appear to have no problems setting boundaries, and they really really enforce them. Oh and they have a real mother complex as well. Freud would have had a field day with them.
mudpup
