The Latest Buzz

Well, the yellow jackets aren't. They are bees. And, they are nesting quite nicely at Wayward's former home. I am floored. Wayward has small children. Between the bees and the jungle backyard, it couldn't have been a safe environment for her girls.

The bee dilemma isn't as simple as just getting rid of the things. There are several steps involved beforehand. First, it requires a formal comprehension of the Southern calendar--which I don't have. I still haven't figured out how long "for a spell" happens to be. Such as the exterminator saying, "You sit tight for a spell, and I will get over there in due time."

Then I am required to convey urgency to the soon-to-be-hired-exterminator in a way that I am certain they grasp. It goes like this: the county is fining me for the jungle of a back yard. I can't get the back yard cleaned up until the bees are gone (and I find a new lawn guy).

Oh, it also requires sorting through several know-it-all types to find one competent and reasonably priced person to handle this. You know, just like finding anyone you want working for you. In this case, some of the know-it-all types have been burned by out-of-town landlords before and they haven't forgotten the ones who did them wrong. I am required to listen to their tales of woe before they tell me yes, they will look into my situation. Or, no they won't.

The one thing I can say for certain with my experience in Birmingham, being out of town, many vendors want payment up front or won't work with me at all. I have more than once overnighted a check before the plumber/gas company/title officer will do the work. If they will bill me it is only because I dropped the right name or I have already proven myself.

So, my one hour bee removal research excursion has taken four days. And I still have the bees.

Bee Guy 1: arrives and tells me "Yes ma'am, they are bees." He does tell me it looks like they are aggressive (Calvin may have mentioned this) and there are a lot of them. He informs me the hive is in the eave and behind a very large shrub. This overgrown shrub is impeding #1's ability to get to the bees. Apparently, he needs me to cut the shrub before he can get to them. I explain to him the logistics. I am out of town. I don't have anyone available to cut it down. Can they not work around the shrub or perhaps cut it down themselves? After all, I am not emotionally attached to the shrub. No they can't. Not without a bee suit.

"You are a bee exterminator and you don't have a bee suit?" I ask.

He replied, "No Ma'am, why would I?"

Bee Guy #2: I call and ask if he has bee protective gear. Yes he does. But, he is too busy to get out there for a few weeks. How busy could this guy possibly be? Every single bee is living at MY house. He recommends Bee Guy #3.

Bee Guy #3: Tells me he is a former Marine. And, then tells me he doesn't need a bee suit. Yes, he has one, but his buddies make fun of him when he wears it. I don't get it. I thought Marines were tough enough to handle a little ribbing from their friends. Aren't they put in much more dangerous situations? Did he worry about what his friends said when he wore his Kevlar vest? Are his buddies going to be in my backyard? I tell him there is a big shrub in the way, that doesn't seem to phase him. I explain that I am told the bees are somewhat aggressive, he still is undeterred. He is the Bee Whisperer.

What he does want is keys for the inside to see if the bees perhaps built their comb inside the interior wall. Holy cow! In the wall?! That was a new one to me. Yes, definitely check this out. Thank you very much. Bee guys 1 and 2 didn't mention this. And, they were going to charge more.

Except getting keys is ANOTHER side quest. You see, Mr. H., one of my two process servers, met the lock smith at the house on Monday. Mr. H. was going to give the keys to Former Tenant #2 on Saturday morning. Meanwhile, Mr. H., had surgery Tuesday. Mr. H. doesn't live anywhere near this house. I don't know how this exactly happened but someone close to Mr. H., or Mr. H. himself, did manage to drive all the way back over there to drop off the keys. For all his trouble with this side quest, Mr. H. tells me I owe him a cup of coffee when I see him next.

So, very early Friday morning, former-Marine-turned-Bee-Guy-#3 will be there braving the elements to send the bees to their great reward. Hopefully.