I’m not sure where to begin, as my mind is muddled from a sleepless night. Our home is more akin to the set of a horror movie, and I’m currently sitting in the dim lamplight at 5 am, anticipating the next scare. As my coffee boils, I'll tell you the story.

All summer, it has been almost a game dodging the yellow jackets (YJ) that darted in and out of a tiny crack in the siding of the house right near the back door. Honestly, they never paid us any attention despite my efforts to spray poison at them every chance I got. Well, Sunday evening I had the idea to use a can of spray foam insulation to seal up some holes an amorous woodpecker made (trying to lure the ladies in) on that side of the house, and also spray the wasp hole.

My heart was racing as I approached, climbing over the rocks in the dark, filling up the spaces in the siding that appeared earlier in the year. (HERE IS ONE NOW approaching as I write! Crawling alongside the edge of the foot stool!) I’m getting ahead of my story here.

Bear with me ... so I’m barefoot, balancing on a huge rock with the YJ mansion somewhere inside the wall of my house right above my head. I spy the crack they have been using, and I see two sets of eyes looking much like they are wearing the helmets and goggles of old-school fighter pilots facing me. They are backed into their "hangar," ready for takeoff should they be under attack.

That is exactly what I had in mind, so I gingerly shoved past them with the long flexible stem attached to my can of whoop @$$ and unloaded it. My mind was gleefully chanting "DIE! DIE YOU BUGGERS" and so on. Not one insect left the nest after me, and I felt triumphant that I likely killed them all with the foam and sealed the few stragglers inside to die. My smug self slept well.

Monday morning came as usual. Sit on my chair with my coffee and read, wake up the guys, then head to the barns for chores. Upon my arrival back to the house, my husband meets me at the door, half-ready for work, and tells me in a very odd tone that "We have a situation."

This usually means a dog threw up somewhere, and no one wants to deal with it. I follow him in, down to the mancave in the basement, and witness the YJ version of Amityville Horror. YJ are covering the windows and pouring into the room from a hole they chewed in the drywall overnight. As it turns out, this was no small nest, and for my suddenly weakened heart, it looks like the population of India in YJ is in my house. The boys come down the stairs to see what is going on, and the four of us stand in stunned silence watching this unfold.

The YJ don't seem to care we are there. Kevin says he is going to open one of the windows and let them out. Against my protests, he approached the wiggling mass of insects on the glass and slowly opened the window. I was shocked none attacked him! I begged him to just cut a hole in the screen rather than messing with those tabs trying to pry the screen out, but he wasn't having any of that. The screen came out easily enough, and he used a hand towel to swish them out. I was shocked they were peaceful until he stepped on one and it left behind a surprisingly large stinger.

I suggested we plug the YJ-sized hole with toothpaste since that’s what I had on hand, and it seemed to work. I could hear buzzing in the wall. By 8:30 am, I was on the phone trying to find an exterminator. They could have a man here around 2:00 pm. Kevin left for work.

Every ten minutes or so, the boys and I would check for more. We kept finding one or two, and then saw one drop on the windowsill from the top of the casing. I pulled the blind back to discover a couple dozen YJ clustered at the top of the window frame. I gave them a good hose down with the last half can of poison I had on hand. It looked like they had been hiding there since their friends "bugged out " earlier in the morning. It seemed like we had the all clear finally, and the toothpaste "patch" was keeping them at bay.

Fast forward to about noon. I’m sitting at my drawing table against the back door right near the plugged-up entrance site. I have the screen closed, letting in the beautiful weather. I keep hearing what sounds like rustling leaves. There is no wind, and I don’t have dry leaves on the ground yet. I get up and stand in the doorway, peering out across the yard. A YJ drops from above and hits the deck with a soft thud. I raise my eyes and—to my utter disbelief and absolute horror—see through the slats of tiny grates running the length of the house in the underside of the eaves … heads. Thousands. Of. Heads. Poking out of the grates, looking for a way to escape. The noise I’d been hearing for hours is the YJ climbing on top of each other and trying to force their bodies through the slats.

I could clearly see into the darkness of the grates a mass of movement. It is about this time that I think that if they have to open up the walls of this house, then so be it. I bet it would be newsworthy. The boys and I are standing in the dining room looking at them at about 1:30 pm and talking about going to stay at my dad’s, just ten minutes away.

Something in the air shifted. The three of us became stock still in unison. Some kind of noise we couldn’t identify began to rise up. Logan crept down the stairs to look at the toothpaste site, and the YJ were once again pouring into the house but at a faster clip than earlier that morning.

ABANDON SHIP!!!!

We all rushed upstairs to our rooms to gather some clothing, etc., locked the dogs in the shop, fed all the horses, and sat in the truck waiting for the exterminator. We called Kevin and told him to meet us at my dad’s—DO NOT GO HOME!

Against my better judgment, I crept back into the house, worrying that it would have YJ in every nook and cranny if I didn’t get that window open again near the entry point. I used a broom handle and moved as slowly as possible (which is counterintuitive!) and slid that window open, and they right away began to filter out again. So I headed back to the truck and waited.

The pest control guy arrived about 2:00 pm. He walked around for a look and discovered this wasn't just a typical YJ problem, and went to put on his bee suit. He commented he hadn't had to wear it in over three years and hadn't seen a problem like this in years. He used all his chemicals, did his pest guy thing, and explained we needed to be out 4-5 hours as the critters would be frenzied and the chemicals needed dry time.

So we hunkered down at my dad’s and waited. I kind of wanted to just stay the night over there, but really didn’t want to deal with washing all the linens later (he was traveling), so at 7:30, Kev came back to the house. He discovered hundreds of dead insects with a few wigglers in the house. He used a shop vac to clean them up. So the boys and I returned. (I couldn’t believe they didn’t have to tent or pull off walls. I’m still not convinced.)

There were a few in the kitchen light fixtures I discovered when one dropped onto the back of my neck. There is one I see up there now that’s alive. There was the one on my footstool a few minutes ago. I just can’t see how they are all supposed to be dead. The guy said I should call him back if I see more today (30-day guarantee). Of course, it's pouring, so they wouldn’t be very active anyway, but I will sure be watching. The rain makes it impossible to hear them moving in the walls if they are there. I’m nervous, so the large raindrops sound like YJ bodies hitting glass. So far, I can’t see anything in the eaves, but I’m worried! I’m uncomfortable! The man explained that there are/were several queens in this infestation, and they can live up to a year. If we hadn’t discovered this problem now … next spring we would have a very, very serious issue.

So I guess there is my silver lining (you know I always say there is one.) Say a little prayer for me today, and stay safe out there, and for heaven’s sakes, don't ever just let a yellow jacket/wasp nest go unattended!