Swarms of killer technicolored wasps?

Well, the summer is finally coming to a breezy end.  The small area of our gardens that managed to escape my attempted annihilation by weed-whacker is now browning and drying before my eyes.  The barn is clean and stocked for the fall.  The house has been stripped, steamed, shop-vac’d, vaccuumed, and scrubbed.  The fence posts have been replaced and the wires re-tied.  The trees have been cut-backed, trimmed, or pulled and the mulch is in the beds.

This morning, I woke and took in a full gulp of crisp, morning air.  I smiled.  I knew I had nothing to do but relax today and enjoy the weather.  I asked the girls to run out to the barn to take the animals into the back field while I cooked breakfast.  Two minutes later, they came racing back in.

“Mom!  There are the scariest bugs in the field!”




“Black wings!”


Now, given my daughters’ huge imaginations and their tendency to exercise them at will, I smiled, nodded, mmm-hmmed, and told them not to worry.

“I’m sure they’re harmless,” was my rehearsed reply.

While they were eating, I took a walk out to the back field to see what they were all riled up about.

Harmless?????  My ass!!!!!

There were dozens – close to a hundred – of the creepiest, B-grade sci-fi insects I’ve ever laid my eyes on, just hovering over the field at ankle-height.  They were, indeed, huge – nearly two inches from tip to stinger.  They did, indeed, have black wings – that shone a shocking iridescent blue in the sun.  As they lifted those wings, they revealed a hard red and yellow striped body with an enormous pointed back-end – needle sharp.

I screamed.

I ran.

I prayed they weren’t following me.  I galloped straight into the barn where I came to rest up against the dry, wooden plank wall.  My hand stuck to something.  I looked down and saw my fingers enmeshed in a spider web at least 10 inches across.  They came to rest about a fingernail’s width away from a fat, hairy, and very poisonous looking spider.  (I have no idea if it was poisonous.  But, it was hairy – and, in my book, that equates to the same thing.

I screamed.

I ran.

I prayed it wasn’t still attached to me – dangling by my finger – about to get stuck in the cuff of my shorts or down my boot.

I plowed through the screen door and into the house.

I sprinted into the bathroom, stripped down, and hopped into a scorching shower.

Ten minutes later, I was sure any living thing that could have possibly attached itself to me had been boiled to death.

I breathed a big gulp of crisp, morning air and decided to try to start the day all over again.  This time, sans insects!


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