I walk onto the back porch and hear water running outside. I know what that means.
My washing machine and dryer actually set outdoors, behind my house on a concrete slab covered by a small roof.
The past few weekends, the washing machine has been acting up, overflowing with water when I first turn it on and not going into the cycles. I have to manually turn the dial to get the cycles to activate. I have not bothered the landlord about this, because it only does it occasionally, and then the machine operates normally for the rest of the loads that day.
I step outside, and sure enough, the machine is running over with water. This is the second time it has done it today, though, and it is the rinse cycle. It has never overflowed on the rinse cycle before.
So I manually turn the dial, and all the water drains out. The machine is not going through the cycles like it should.
Hmm. I suppose I will need to call the landlord about this, now.
I step back to go inside the house, when a bug flies into the side of my head with a good deal of force.
“Jeez!” I say out loud. “Can’t you see where you’re going, insect? I’m standing right here.”
I do not see the bug or where it went, and I walk back into the house.
Later, I put in a second load of clothes after moving the first load to the dryer, and wait while the machine fills with water to see if it will overflow.
Yep, after a couple of minutes, I see that the water level is getting too high. I manually turn the dial and start the machine. I step back, and a bug hits me in the side of the head again.
Suddenly, I feel a burning sensation on my right shoulder blade.
“Whoa!” I yell, and take off running. Kicking over a bucket that I use to wash my car, I almost trip as I sprint out into the back yard, clutching my back. In my peripheral vision, I see a wasp chasing me. I keep running until the wasp veers off.
Now I understand everything. There is a nest somewhere close to my washing machine.
The decision on how to handle this is a quick one. Time for battle.
I give the washing machine a wide berth as I circle the back yard to get to the door. Luckily, I have a spray can of wasp and hornet killer under my sink. After I retrieve it, I take off my shirt and look at my back in the mirror. There is a puncture mark and a welt that has already formed.
Carefully, can in hand at the ready, I step back outside and creep around the corner.
I am only a few feet away from the washing machine, which hums away in its cycle.
But where is the nest?
I see an empty wasp nest under a corner of the roof, and douse it with the spray. I doubt this is the one that I need to be worried about, though. It has been there for some time. I also spray a dirt dauber’s nest and run back out into the yard in case any of them come flying out. None do. Walking around the back of the house, I spot two more empty nests and spray them. But I am still unconvinced that I have found the headquarters of the wasp that stung me.
Okay, I think to myself. I need to creep back up to the washing machine and see what happens.
My head on a swivel, I step off the grass of the lawn and onto the concrete slab where the washing machine sets. I am looking all around.
As I take a small step forward, I suddenly spot the joker. He is actually inside the light fixture, directly above the washing machine. I am much closer to him that I would like to be, and I freeze.
He is perched on the rim of the hole where the electric cord comes out, wings cocked upward, and he is looking directly at me. The nest has to be inside that hole.
I take careful aim with the spray can. Now, a good feeling sweeps over me. He has not moved, and I have him locked in my sights.
I press the button and score a direct hit in his face. He takes off flying away from me in a disoriented manner. Another wasp falls dead out of the hole. I am a little surprised that the one guarding the nest did not fall dead straight away as well.
In a moment, that wasp appears again, flying right at me. I let go with another stream of the poison, waving the can to spread the stream in the air, trying to nail him. Some does hit him again, and he turns away and flies high into the air, disappearing. There is no doubt he will die in a few moments.
The problem is solved. The battle is won.
There is another light fixture, this one above the dryer. I wonder if there might be a nest inside that one as well.
I look into the hole from about five feet away, but do not see anything. Better to be safe than sorry, though. I spray inside the hole with the wasp killer. In a moment, I see movement, and two wasps fall out of that light fixture as well.
This is only the second time in my life that I have been stung by a wasp or bee. The first time was at my house in Kissimmee in 2012, when I opened a trash can outside that had a nest on it.
From the research that I have done, I would guess that it was a "paper wasp" that attacked. The Wikipedia article on them says that they have facial recognition abilities similar to humans. I believe it. I could tell he was looking right at me and studying me before I sprayed him.
The sting causes me to feel a touch nauseous for about half an hour, and there is a little soreness, like one feels after receiving a tetanus shot. Over the next few days, the spot it itches some.
That wasp left a mark, too. As I type this blog entry, a full week after having been stung, there is still discoloration on my shoulder blade about the size of two quarters. It looks like I have a birth mark.
The wasp that stung me was unusually aggressive and unusually tough- or at least that is my opinion. Normally, I can get pretty close to nests and not be attacked, and normally a wasp falls dead immediately after the poison spray touches it.
It probably would have amused anyone who could have seen me yell and sprint across the yard after being stung, and then creep around the yard like an army commando with a spray can.
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