That's right kids, these skeevy little bastards must all die. Right now!
Why have I got my dander up? Because I'm currently at war with thousands of these winged wonders and they have the upper wing right now. But not for long.
It appears that the doughty Yellow Jacket (Vespula squamosa) is having a banner year all over the great state of Georgia and it looks like most of them have elected to make their homes on property I'm supposed to maintain. There can be no peaceful coexistence.
My efforts are hamstrung by the fact that the most effective bait for the little buggers, micro encapsulated diazinon, is deemed by our imperial federal government to be too dangerous to be allowed into the hands of the great unwashed. Thanks so much for making the task of killing off tens of thousands of my newly sworn enemies a little easier. Not.
It's not like they're politicians that can be induced into the open by random piles of greenbacks or the mere promise of random piles of greenbacks. It seems that each underground hive has it's own particular tastes and must be presented with some choices in sweet nectar-like substances to identify which one makes that nest go ga-ga. All in all, it's quite time consuming and rather nerve racking until you figure out whether it's old coke, new coke, grape soda or plain old apple juice.
Then tracking the ill tempered beasts to the quarter sized opening of their underground lair presents a whole new set of challenges, mainly, don't get 'em riled up or it's emergency room time. But the payoff comes later that evening when you return to the nest site, lamp that quarter sized hole with a pocket light and blast 12oz of Schmack Down on their pointy lil' heads.