If it's called being as mad as a wet hen or mad as a hornet, what do you call it when you really tick off a bunch of wasps? Well, I call it lessons learned. Let me set the stage for you.

This past weekend I was cleaning up around the house and yard and there was an old base to a basketball hoop the kids had when they were younger.  It has just been sitting there, and since I was planning a trip to the dump to get rid of a bunch of other stuff I thought I would just take the base too.  Well first off, it is filled with sand that has pretty much turned to cement over the years, so it's about 400 pounds. Me, of course, being the inventive kind of person that I think I am, I thought, here's an idea, let's just take this little hatchet I have and chop the base up and then I can dump the sand out and haul it away. Good in theory, right?

Well, not so much.  I was about six chops into it, and doing very well I might add, when bam! I had shooting pain in my right arm, right on the underarm, you know the hangy-down-fatty-part (it's muscle to most, but a fatty-hangy-down-thing for me). Anyway, after two, (count them, TWO) of those little buggers stinging me, I thought better of it.

Well, let's face it. I wasn't going to just let it go. So, I enlisted the help of my son Triston to help me flip the base over so we could burn the hive. I'm sure you already know where this is headed. Yep, sure enough, just as we tipped the base over, bingo, another sting, this time it was on my rear. Yes, I said on my rear, and man did that hurt. Like I need my rear to swell up any more than it is. I mean, let's face it, it's already big enough. After getting stung the third time, we did get rid of the wasps' nest. Let's just say it was a hot mess for them. I learned two things: first, survey the project and see what might be hidden, and second, I'm not allergic to wasp stings, so that's a bonus.

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