A few weeks back, Jean was taking a nap in the bedroom. It was a quite weekend afternoon, and she kept hearing what she thought was the gentle dropping of pine needles on the roof. But there's no tree on that side of the house (now of course, no tree on any side, boo hoo!). So she went outside and had a look, and saw a steady stream of wasps flying up to a hole under the eaves, disappearing inside. Occasionally one would pop out again and fly on it's merry way.
We had The Bug Man! come out, and he put on his space suit, crawled up into the attic with a garbage bag and some poison, and came out minutes later with the nest. We got ninety days of active poison. Anything flies in, it dies. But they would most likely not want to.
So I look outside at the back yard the other day (already outside of my habit zone ) and what do I see, but a stinking huge wasp nest in the tree just outside the bedroom window. Bastards couldn't use our attic, so they decided to set up shop right outside! Damn them nasty little crittersesss!
Oh Bug Man!!!!