I talked both my grandsons into helping in the yard. I want everything in order when it becomes too cold to garden. Chris has weeded the front of the Melba Street house. It is such a relief to see the parking area clear. Stephen cut the back lawn and I cut the front lawn. Stephen trimmed all over. We stand and admire our handiwork. Another chore is to fill in a low spot on Melba Street. If I don't fill in the low spot, it can funnel water towards the house. Chris agrees to do this. I am supplying good mulch to fill in the spot. My mulch pile has been sitting for two years. It is nicely broken down...ready to be spread. With cart and spade, I approach the pile to dig the dirt. The spade goes into the rich brown earth. The only thing is, yellow jackets have set up housekeeping in the mulch pile. They don't want to be evicted. Picture me racing for the house, arms flailing to keep the yellow jackets away from me. It doesn't work. I am stung a dozen times.
The antidote is to take antihistamine. Done.
Well, those bees won the battle, but I will win the war. In the basement, is a bottle of bug killer. I dilute it and pour the whole bottle over the mulch pile. I can smell the chemical smell from a yard away. That should take care of the little bastards.
The next day, I try again to move the mulch pile into the cart. A few shovels...and the yellow jackets come out again! I didn't get them all.
I run for the house, slamming the door. One follows me right into the kitchen porch. They don't give up easily. This time, I have only one sting...on my ear. As Bugs Bunny said, "This, of course you know, means war."