I hate yellow jackets!

Have I ever told you how much I hate yellow jackets? Probably. I tell every one of my brush with death in the form of winged stingers.

See, when I was a little tyke, about four or five, and we still lived on Kenwood Avenue in Hawthorn, New Jersey, I stepped on a honey bee. I remember we had a lot of white clover in the lawn and the honey bees just love that stuff. It must have been the second time I got stung by a bee because I had an allergic reaction. I’m told that the first time usually doesn’t elicit such a reaction. Your body just says, “Damn! That hurt! Don’t do it again or I’ll kill you!” Well, my body tried to kill me this time. I started having trouble breathing and Mom called the doctor. (This was before 911. The doc dropped whatever he was doing and rushed to our house where he got the full story from Mom, said something like, “Uh-huh,” and gave me a shot to counter my reaction. I’m told that if he had been 10-15 minutes late, I might have died from anaphylactic shock.

Time passed. We moved to Oakland, New Jersey and I continued to be something of what would be called today a “free range” kid. One day, when I was 10 or 11, while I and a couple of friends were walking home from somewhere—maybe the ball fields—we stopped to throw some rocks against an old wooden fence at a place that once was an academy. That fence made a glorious “THUD!” that echoed off the hillside every time a rock hit it and we were having a grand old time. Little did we realize there was a bees nest hon the other side of that fence. And they were not happy with our activity. They came swarming out and attacked. I was the only one stung. Home was just a short distance up the hill on Yawpo Avenue and I made my way there post haste.

This time, Mom, hauled me off to the doctor’s office pronto and, as the allergic reaction began to set in, the doctor administered the necessary shot. He then discussed the relatively new procedure available to desensitize people like me to the venom bees and wasps deliver with each sting. That procedure required a series of ever strengthening injections of bee venom over the course of three years. And so I became a bee venom pin cushion. The shots produced a reaction something like a mosquito bite: a little itching and a little bump. Even as the shots potency increased, my reaction remained about the same. Which was good. After three years the doc said I was no longer allergic to bees and I could ditch the medic alert bracelet I had been wearing.

Time passed some more. I got married and Terry and I were living in Dover, New Jersey. Jessica was born and I was working on my Master’s thesis. This required some field work during which I was in the woods along the median and verge of I-78 just east of the junction with I-287. One warm summer’s day I was out trapping mice in this area when I stepped on a yellow jacket nest. I dropped my gear and hurried out of the woods toward my car. This was the first time I had been stung since those allergy shots and I was a little worried that they might not actually work.

As I stepped out of the woods, I saw a state trooper’s car parked behind my vehicle. I approached the officer, told him what had just happened and asked if he would mind sitting with me for a bit to see if I would have a reaction—and if I did, to get me to the hospital just a couple miles away ASAP. He agreed and we sat in his car chatting a bit while he did paperwork. When nothing seemed to have happened after 15-20 minutes I thanked him and said I seemed to be okay. He went on his way and I got in my car to head north on I-287.

Just to be safe, I got off in Morristown and stopped at a co-worker and friend’s house--a home Terry and I would later purchase—located just off the exit ramp to I-287 and only a quarter mile or so from Morristown Memorial Hospital. Ellen Rosenbaum was home, listened to my tale and made some ice tea. We sat and talked for half an hour or more and when I didn’t show signs of dying, Ellie sent me packing.

I’ve since been stung by wasps and hornets and, while they hurt like the blazes, I’ve had no allergic reaction.  I was so impressed with the results of these desensitization shots, I went to an allergist to find out if he could do anything for my hay fever and reactions to other insect bites. After using my arms and back as a place to do scratch tests to determine what my allergies were (I’ve a booklet somewhere that lists dozens of things I’m supposed to be allergic to—including coffee and chocolate. Really?), we agreed on six targets for desensitization. Same deal as before: start with injections of the allergy causing crud and work our way through ever stronger solutions over three years. I got three shots in each arm on every visit. Never had a reaction to the shots beyond a slight bump and mild itch. After three years, my eyes didn’t water and itch every spring and a mosquito didn’t create a mountain on my bare skin when it bit. Neither do deer flies or black flies. I’m a happy camper!

I became desensitized to poison ivy all on my own. I credit total immersion for that one. That day I fell into a patch while fishing the Ramapo River at the NY –NJ border, with no shirt on caused me to break out from head to belly button. Caused quite the rush on calamine lotion, too.

I’ve since waged war against yellow jackets when and where I find them. I’ve wiped out a ground nest in the Adirondacks and another here at the Aerie. (The Adirondacks one was more fun as the only materials at hand was some 50:1 mixed gas-oil I used in the chainsaw. Whoosh!) And there was one in the Aerie’s eave that I got with a foaming spray.

Now, I told you all this so I could bring up what happened today as I was mowing the lawn after a three week hiatus. Three weeks because of the heat and the sporadic heavy rains. This morning was cool and overcast. The latter meant there was no dew on the ground so I figured I’d get out there and mow. Some of the plantain flower heads were a foot high and you could see the occasional honey bee or bumble bee causing them to bend and sway as they gathered pollen and nectar. I fired up the mower and set to work. As I was cutting around the septic tank cover (a small roofed structure I built a few years ago) I reached down to pull a Queen Anne’s lace from the ground. That’s when they hit me. Swarming out from the roof of the tank cover came the yellow jackets. The RAF didn’t respond to the Luftwaffe with as much energy or determination. As soon as I realized what was happening, I backed off, left the lawn mower and walked swiftly away. Not fast enough. One got me on the left wrist just above my watch band and another got under the bandana I was wearing and stung the top of my right ear. Damn they hurt! I was happy those were the only two that succeeded in getting to me. Even now some five hours later, my wrist is still swollen and I’ve a cauliflower ear. I took one of the Spectracide cans that sprays up to 25 feet and hosed the area from which they emerged. Some were still flying about so I didn’t want to get too close. I’ll go back tonight when they’re inside and spray again. Hopefully I can get to wherever the nest actually is. I do NOT want to have to lift that cover to get to them. No siree!

I did manage to get the lawn finished but you can be sure I kept a wary eye on that corner of the yard while I was working nearby.

What I did on my Saturday.

As night fell last evening, I ventured forth with a can of Spectracide Wasp & Hornet Killer to do battle with the yellow jackets that took up residence in the leaves behind the rear wheel of my log splitter. I could see no activity when I started to spray into the visible hole and soaked it and the surrounding leaves thoroughly.

In the morning light it was obvious that this first attack had had some success but did not produce a complete killing of the hive. I was, however, able to move the splitter a couple of feet since I could grab the tongue of splitter and pull it out of the way. What I then saw had the hairs on the back of my neck quivering. (There are precious few on the top of my head, but there are a few at the nape of my neck and these were at full, quivering alarm.)

The yellow jackets had built their nest in the leaves and not in the ground as they usually do. And what a nest it was! A mud construct measuring at least 12 inches long and 6 to 8 inches high and Lord knows how many inches deep was visible with the wasps--for that's what yellow jackets technically are--swarming over the surface.

Tonight I took another can of Spectracide spray out and gave them a second salvo of poison meant to kill on contact and keep killing for days. This time I emptied the entire can and marveled at the loud "buzzzzzz" from the agitated wasps. U was half surprised not to feel the vibrations through my heavy boots. With any luck, this will be the end of the little devils.

Actually, I was surprised that the little beasts didn't come swarming out and attack me while I was mowing the lawn yesterday, or moving the splitter, or spraying their nest. I have said many silent prayers of thanks for that little blessing! I've been stung before on multiple occasions and Do Not Like the experience.

When I was younger, I was allergic to bee/hornet stings and they almost killed me--twice. As a young teen I underwent desensitizing shots so the little creeps could not kill me. As a 20-something adult, I stepped in a yellow jackets' nest and got stung somewhere between 8 and 12 times. Who counts when there are that many? This was the first test of the shots I had received and they passed with flying colors as a couple of hours later--after having waited first with a NJ State Trooper a half mile from the hospital and then with a friend whose house was again just a stones throw from a hospital emergency room--I didn't even itch from the stings.

 Normally, I'm a live and let live kind of guy when it comes to wild critters who could do me harm. I give unknown snakes and spiders a wide berth. I'll sing or yell at bears when I see them approach--before making my own escape. (Of course, if I'm hunting....) I'll cut the line of any over sized shark (5 foot or better) and let it swim away with my tackle before thinking of bringing it into the boat. But not with wasps, hornets or their ilk. (Honey bees are another matter. Unless they are the Africanized version known as Killer Bees.) Especially when they invade my turf it's: Kill them all and let God sort them out.

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In other activities today, I merely sprayed the deck with cleanser and then rinsed the same off in preparation of staining. I know I said I could do some staining of the rails today but my legs and back were protesting that I did too much yesterday so I was out voted 2-1. At least the spraying of the cleanser and subsequent rinsing didn't require my doing any stooping, bending or kneeling.

It did foul up my 500 gallon cistern, however. We have a shallow well here at the Aerie (just 120-150 feet deep) and it has a slow recharge rate. The water that comes in is usually laden with some of the fine red clay that surrounds the shale of the mountain. All the deck rinsing I did today caused a flushing of the water table and resulted in a rush of red clay particles into the cistern despite the one micron filter on the line. I had just replaced that filter last week but I had to do it again this afternoon. And the cistern's tank is cloudy with fine clay, too, and that will eventually have to be flushed out using the submersible pump. *sigh*

******

The Church is sponsoring a breakfast tomorrow morning on behalf of the Knights of Columbus so an early start to the staining project is not in the books. Biscuits and gravy, bacon and eggs, pancakes, the usual. Which is just fine my me! Staining will just have to wait until afternoon. Besides, waiting until later will allow the surfaces I sprayed with water today a better chance to dry out--as long as the widely scattered T-storms stay int he Northern Tier as they predict. ("Northern Tier" is southern, New York while "Southern Tier" is northern PA where the Aerie is located. Geography can get complicated. But at least I can spell "Ohio.")

Aerie Report, February 12, 2012

I haven't written much this week, but it's certainly been interesting in a couple of minor ways.

Terry got a gift of a vase and a bulb for a paper-white narcissus for Christmas. It sat o n the counter for nearly a month before she added water to it and within a week the roots began to grow. A couple of days later the green leaf shoots started lengthening and then two flower stalks emerged.

Well, for a week and a half we could almost see those greens growing skyward if we just stared at them long enough. Everyday they'd be a half inch or more taller in the morning and another half inch by bed time. Things grew like Jack's beanstalk!

Last Sunday, the flower buds burst open and two clusters of pretty little white flowers appeared.

I was out of the house most of Monday, but on Tuesday my eyes started itching, my nose stated dripping and I started sneezing hard enough to tweek the muscles in my lower back. If I sneezed any harder, the walls of the house would have given way!

This continued on Wednesday and Thursday despite my taking my daily Loratadine tablet every morning. (That little pill makes it possible to have three cats in the house.) Trying to think of what might be causing my obviously allergic reaction we finally settled on the paper-white narcissus and it was exiled to the guest bedroom around noon on Friday.

It took a while before I started to recover, but by Saturday I was back to normal and continued to be itchy-eyes, runny-nose and sneeze free. Coincidence? The only way to find out is for me to go and sit in the guest bedroom for an hour. And I, for one, will not tempt fate.

******

Friday saw the temperatures around the Aerie begin to fall down below the historical averages. Clouds moved in and by Saturday noon hour it was flurrying. Not much, but enough to say it was doing something. Forecast initially said we would have only an inch or so but then they changed to "up to 3 inches" later tin the day. It was to stop by 8 PM. And it did. But then we started to have snow squalls all day Sunday. One minute the sun would shine through a break in the clouds and the next we would have white-out conditions with the wind whipping the powdery snow that fell on Saturday about as much as blowing the new stuff sideways.

And the Sunday morning temperature was just 7 degrees. Got as high as 18 though. Still, that's colder than the folks running the Yukon Quest are experiencing.

Tomorrow, they say, it will be mostly sunny with the temperatures reaching the upper 30s so, except for the deck, I left the snow lay where it fell. Mother Nature can do the cleanup this time around.

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Terry and I were going to support the local church yesterday by going to their beef and chicken dinner. We scraped the snow and ice off the Tundra's windshield and drove down in the snow and were surprised to see that the parking lot was empty. Either Terry got the wrong night or the wrong church, or the thing got cancelled because of the snow. At any rate, we found ourselves down the hill with no firm plans for dinner. So, off to Mansfield and Papa V's for some fine Italian food.

We passed on the pizza and went for an appetizer of fried calamari and entrees of chicken parmigiano. Mmmm-mmm, good!

By the time we got home, I had to put the truck into 4-wheel to assure we would get up the hill. Drifting snow from the fields and pastures at the base of the hill had filled in much of the road.

******

Only thing that intruded upon a nice dinner out was some college aged kid sitting at the next table with his girlfriend and, I suppose, his mom and dad. The kid was loudly pontificating on the need for more than a high school diploma to get a job, the gas companies, the rise of tuition at Mansfield U, and education cuts made by the Governor.

I finally had enough and asked him to lower his voice since some of us wanted to enjoy our meal and had no interest in his ill-formed opinion. Surprisingly, he did.

I later thought of his comments and, if I had had the desire, could have put him in his place with just a few points. The gas companies are hiring people left right and sideways. Some of their jobs need special training WHICH THEY WILL PROVIDE so even a high school grad can get a gas job. The influx of gas workers has caused a boom in numerous support businesses in the area and there are help wanted signs up all over. I'm sure lots of those jobs do not require more than a high school diploma. How many more high school diplomaed kids would get jobs more easily if the high schools still taught skills like auto shop, carpentry, home economics (specifically cooking) instead of believing every kid must be trained to go to college? (On the home ec front, some entrepreneurial young ladies in the area have set up a housekeeping service to tend to the many single gas workers and drill rig offices that need cleaning up after. They say business is booming!)

Rise in tuition at MU? You mean the school that just had a building spurt and put up a couple of big dorms? Does it still teach things like "women's studies"? Why?

As for the cut in education monies the Governor has put in his budget (some $900 million), spread across the state of Pennsylvania that's not much at all. And in this area we actually had a round of consolidation recently because some schools were being underused. Imagine that.

The fact that this young man was spouting his opinions in an eatery that just doubled its size because of the gas boom and from whose windows one could see a micro brewery that didn't exist a little over a year ago and a Mexican cantina that is just two years old, and just down the street from a local bank branch that handled $130 million dollars in deposits last year--mostly from gas royalties payed to land owners...well, that was icing on the cake.