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["Griffin Gardens" <griffingardens@earthlink.net>]

  It was a dark night, but not a stormy one, which is a change for the better if you're planning to finally get rid of the bald-faced hornet nest in your Whitney crab once and for all so you can make applesauce, and I was. It was still a little warm and humid for my liking, which it usually is around here this time of the year, but now I had a reason. Still, the overnight temp had dropped down below 60 for the first time in about a week, and the time seemed right. Mars was closer to the Earth than it was going to be for a long, long time - forever as far as I was concerned - and the moon was in one its numbered houses, probably the seventh or some other one after the 7th, but I what did I know. All I knew was it was spooky out there, and it was a kind of spooky that belonged someplace else, maybe in another world, and I had a job to do.

  Ya, I know, it would have been smarter to wait for a cooler night when they were all inside and you could walk right up, slick as you please, without them knowing you were coming, and do whatever you wanted to 'em - knock down the nest and run, flood em with Ivory liquid from your hose sprayer, or hoover em up, but I'm not the kind of guy that is used to that sort of luxury, and I don't like to wait - it ain't my style. Besides, the Whitneys weren't waiting and it was going to be a long enough winter as it was, it always is, and I didn't want to face it without applesauce.

  Plan B was to blast them with the 12 gauge at sunset from a safe distance, about 15 feet I figured. There aren't many hornet sized holes in the pattern from a load of 7 1/2's at from 15', and the bald-faced is big for a hornet. But then around here a shotgun blast at dark tends to make the neighbors kind of edgy. Besides, there was plan A.

  Sixty was real warm for the way I was dressed. I was good for a couple hours of ice fishing if we'd of had it - insulated overalls, heavy winter coat, gloves, cap and a head-net. Rubber bands around all the cuffs too. So there I was, dressed to the nines and pussy-footin it up to the nest in the dark with a can of d-CON flying insect spray in my shaky hand and a couple of the bee sting concoctions waiting for me in the house just in case. Was I scared? Sure I was scared, you bet I was - only a fool wouldn't be scared. But this wasn't just for me, it was for Lucky and Joe, and Tanis, and Betty, and for all the other poor slobs that got it before me.

  I got mine two days before when I pulled a boner and shinned my flashlight on the nest to see if anybody was home. The quick answer was a sting in the forehead from one of the guards sitting outside the nest. After it was too late, I learned they are attracted to light and attack it by instinct, and from the way I was holding mine, this one must have just missed, but was probably going too fast to stop until he got to my forehead. Most places where you read about how to take care of these nests tell you that. I learned it the hard way, but why should this be any different. The sting had some punch behind it, and it was kinda like when your brother shoots you with his BB gun, only now hes shooting red-hot BB's. You feel the hit first and then the heat after - right after. The good thing about it, if you can call it that, is that it doesn't last too long. Mine was gone by the end of the day, and never did swell up and hurt real bad like a yellow-jacket does, not that I recommend anybody go out and try it. My dog didn't like it either when he got stung the day before. He's not a long haired dog, but he's not bald either, and thats what gave me the idea for the heavy clothes.

  I was coming up from the back side of the nest so they couldn't see me. The front door isn't right on the bottom, but up a couple of inches, and off to one side. It faces east on both of my nests but I don't know if it always does, and right now I didn't care, the one in my Whitney was the only one I cared about. This time they were all inside, and when I came around the corner spraying there wasn't anything to spray. That changed in a hurry though and from the buzzing it sounded like they were all trying to get out at the same time, like the ice cream wagon was coming down the street giving away free ice cream and I was Tuti-Fruiti. I pushed the button down and kept it that way as they came out. Some were able to fly around weakly but they seemed more concerned about the spray can than the guy spraying it, which was ok by me. I thought maybe it was the hissing noise they were after, and maybe it was. The dead calm helped me out too because the mist from the spray hung in the air and the flyers picked some up every time they came through it. I had a chunk of foam rubber I planned to plug up the hole with, but when I put it in, the nest was too soggy from the spray to hold it, so I turned the nozzle up into the hole and held it there until the can was empty. After a while there was a pile of hornets on the ground and I pulled the nest down.

  It was over. I was relieved like you always are after you do a dirty job, but there's no great satisfaction in it, and I would have just as soon left them alone if they wouldn't have been in the way, and would have too. They're a lot like me, just a poor working stiff looking for a chance to do their job. Besides, there's probably going to be a lot more flies around here now - I guess they eat a lot of flys. I take my consolation in knowing there is another nest in the yard, and in my applesauce.

 

Dave

In central MN,

zone 4a, but only in the winter.