For the last few days I've had my arsenal of bee fighting equipment lined up on the banister and today I finally had the time to really focus my attention on this risky task.
Tackling the less risky job first, the attic remained temporarilly sealed behind a plastic barrier while I skipped to:
Phase Three: Outdoor Hives under the Eaves
A tour of the roofline revealed about 10 to 15 individual, fist sized hives that needed to be removed.
The weather was windy and 'almost' rainy. The wind ultimately became the deal breaker after only two or three close calls, but the rain was actually helpful as it led to me wearing more protective clothing which ultimatly spared me from excessive contact with the bee spray.
Hive by hive the extension ladder went up, hive was sprayed, hive was knocked down by either a ski pole or the pool skimmer (since it extends to a long length) and disposed of.
On the east side of the house (right where 'the incident' would occur in about an hour) the extension ladder (fully extended) was blown over by the wind just as my foot was about to mount the first step. The ladder crashed loudly (but not uncontrollably) onto the rear deck, resulting in a slice to the deck railing and also a nice slice to my lower left leg that wouldn't be noticed until the entire ordeal was over.
Luckily, the family heard the ruckus and rushed out to my rescue.
Is it normal for rescuers to yell at the person being rescued? Hmmm.
Despite her sickly condition, Tanya braved the elements to brace the bottom of the ladder to keep me safe as the hives were removed.
There are a few remaining hives on the north side of the house, but the wind ultimately prevented the safe placement of the ladder and probably would have prevented the spray from reaching its target at such a high elevation. Since there does not appear to be any attic ventilation in that area we'll leave those for another day.
Phase Two: The Attic (part two)
Every morning and every evening I would monitor the plastic barrier I put up in lieu of the attic access door and every morning and every evening I would find between two and five deceased (or nearly deceased) insects. Usually it was a combination of bees and flies.
Since I had already removed two fist sized hives/nests that were located near the attic access it was my expectation that either the bees would disappear (problem solved) or they'd keep showing up (job not done). You've probably already figured out that the bees kept showing up.
The family was otherwise occupied (Tanya was napping and the girls were scrapbooking - that sounds backwards but it's not) so I loaded up a garbage can with my Weapons of Mass Destruction (now including the extendable pool skimmer and safety glasses), donned my headlamp, said a quick prayer and carefully entered the attic.
I felt like a stealth cougar on the hunt. Sly, quiet, invisible... until I smacked my head on a rafter and reality kicked in. Yeah - I'm a bull in a china closet.
Slowly and methodically my headlight scoured almost every inch of the attic ceiling for any additional nests/hives or other unwanted insect evidence. The attic was completely clean - except for the last five feet on the west side and the last five feet on the east side of the attic.
Located in those last few feet of attic at the end of the house, where the roof slopes down to the ventilation holes on each side of the house were between 3 and 5 fist-sized hives.
Bummer.
Pulled out the 'shoots 25 feet' can of bee spray and doused the west side hives without incident, while balancing carefully on rafters, of course. Piece of cake.
After maneuvering to the east side of the roof and trying to jockey for position in order to get a good aim on the hives, my back suddenly pierced with pain. Panic kicks in as I'm about to be severly mauled by insane, poisoned bees.
Oh, wait a minute - that's not quite right. That happens later.
Aparrently my jockeying around resulted in me getting poked by one of the millions of nails holding the shingles on the roof. It wasn't a bee at all. I utter a nervous little laugh. Very funny God.
Regaining my composure, my headlight focuses on the remaining bee hives. They are a bit further away than the first group, but surely they are within the 25 foot shooting distance needed per the always truthful Marketing burst on the can. Ready, aim, fire.
Poison douses one of the five hives and as the stream spreads toward the others there is a brief sputter, stream, sputter... sputter... hisssssss. Done... because the can is empty.
Unlike the west side bees, who offered zero resistance, the east side bees were not ready to call it quits. As the empty can is lowered to my side, a swarm quickly approaches. It could have been only one or two bees but my focus suddenly turned to finding my backup can of bee spray.
As the first bee bumps into me, my hand finds the backup can and quickly unleashes a cloud of insecticide in a 360 degree sphere. Up, down, left, right... everywhere. It turns out that this can was the 'indoor' spray so instead of a stream, it lets loose a cloud or mist of spray which was just what was needed in this situation.
More bumps as more insects run into me and my attention quickly turned to getting the heck out of dodge. No longer a stealth couger on the hunt, I'm now the rabbit being chased by the cougar. Extracting ones self from a cramped attic is not an easy task when one is coated in insecticide, dodging shingle nails and hopping from insulation covered rafter to rafter.
As quickly as possible, this rabbit exited the attic and slammed the attic access panel back into it's old accustomed place.
For now, let's just pretend that the dousing to those east side hives was good enough and call this job done.
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