Foaming at the nest

Yesterday was another lovely civic holiday. Not a vacation for Honda owners, but rather a Monday with no work. No work that involves leaving home anyway. I undertook some mundane chores - vacuuming, cleaning the furnace filter, buying food. The filter was the most interesting however. I decided that the best place to dry off (and generally cleanse) the filter would be in direct sunlight, so I brought it out back and headed back in to wait for dryness to set up it. I was not in 30 seconds before my wife indicated a wasp had gotten in. Urgently indicated, with overtones of alarm (she don't like wasps). It longed to pass through the glass in the door, so I helped try to push it out. Alas, the glass proved too substantial and it was merely crushed by the whole ordeal. Heading out a few minutes later, I picked up the clean and dry filter and head in. I paused at the door to survey the air for any manner of flying fauna. Seeing nothing, I entered the doorway. Just as I began that little dance out of the way of the door, I felt something encouraging my calf to just keep moving. It was another wasp, hitching a ride to the great Indoors. Once inside, it too wished to join its' sisters on the far side of the glass and again, glass provide transparent but tangible.

At this point, my wife suggested there may be a nest under the stairs at the back door. I ran out, found the problem and wandered to the front door to contemplate my next move. Evidently that mostly full can of wasp/bee foam was in for more than just shelf-sitting.

Since I had discarded the little red straw this time, I was not in fear for my life when I strode forth after dark. Being close to ground level also made this a tad simpler, but I brought my flashlight anyway. The nest was barely started - several adults clung to the outside. Probably 2 or 3 days old - barely a wasp-body deep, but expanding rapidly horizontally. Foamed up the nest. Some of the adults tried to leave - the poison made them stumble about. They fell free of the nest to the ground below. Since I really couldn't have that, I foamed everything under the stairs. As more fell or wiggled free, they got wrapped in foam too. I'm guessing I created a nice deadzone under the stairs. I'm hoping that I avoided creating a dead zone in my lungs though.

Regaling my co-workers with said story lead to the out pouring of different insect-nest perspectives. There was the "it's under the deck, but I can't see it. So I grabbed a screwdriver..." Several advised that if something wrenched the screwdriver from your hands, that was the signal to start running. Next was the "it was hanging near the basketball net, but too awkward to spray. After throwing the basketball as hard as I could, I quickly ran away." Like Brave Sir Robin, he ran away and only the curious dog from next door found out that wasps don't like to be disturbed.