September 24, 2002
Nothing good
I’ve discovered the secret lair of the yellow jackets. Yesterday evening, as I sat on the back stoop talking to my brother-in-law PJ on the phone, I observed three of the little striped horrors clambering up from somewhere beneath the grass in our tiny backyard, very close to the sidewalk.
“Yeah,” said PJ, “if you look closely, there’s probably a little quarter-inch hole in the yard there. Take my advice: don’t mess around with that hole. Nothing good can come out of it.”
Not that I had any plans to put my face anywhere near that subterranean horror hive. Last night, I dreamed I walked into the kitchen to find a two-foot-long wasp clinging to the ceiling. Waiting for me.
The ‘jackets have gotta go.












