Let me begin this post by saying that I have a humongous fear of bees and wasps. Sure, who really likes bees and wasps; however, I am one of those people who tend to get a little nutsy when I look down and a wasp has its landing gear down for a touch and go on my hand. It’s bad. I was once in a canoe in the middle of a fast-running river with a friend when I saw a wasp hovering right near me. I freaked and the canoe tipped. I still have not heard the end of that one. Ya, so we almost drown...at least I didn't get stung. Having met two people in the past year who were swarmed when they accidentally stepped on nests has not helped me in the least. It's a phobia. Really.
Unfortunately, here in Indiana, we are at the height of angry, irritated wasp season. They, like the rest of us, get really pissed off when the weather gets colder and they know there is a long winter ahead, the holiday baking and shopping need to be done, and heating bills will be through the roof. (Or through the hive.) Knock on wood, I have not been stung by a wasp since the summer of 1987. I was jogging along the Charles River in Boston, a blushing newlywed, gazing in awe at the lovely city and trying to keep my fit bridal figure when I suddenly had the worst pain on my ankle bone. The bastard stung me in mid-stride. Right then and there I quit jogging and started drinking earlier in the day instead of doing an evening workout. Who needs to be fit, I already GOT married. (Just kidding!)
On Tuesday, I went to the barn to ride. By the time I left the barn it was beginning to get rather dark outside. It was a beautiful night; I had the windows down in the car, and was happily singing along to the radio when suddenly there was a buzzing right by my visor. Now mind you, I was cruising along a 2-lane highway when this buzzing began. Not only a 2-laner but a 2-laner with everyone going 70 mph. Speed limit? What speed limit?? I glanced at the windshield when I heard the buzzing and saw something that looked waspy. A flashback of the canoe incident went through my head so I tried to get a grip and think logically. My luck was running out. I was going to die AND get stung at the same time. I still had about a mile and a half before I would reach a gas station where I could get off the road and find out if I was indeed being swarmed. I shut off the radio and opened the windows in hopes that the wasp would fly out while I maintained my NASCAR speed. During what seemed like the hour-long journey to the gas station, I glanced up a few times to see if the shadow was still above the visor. At one point, I could see it crawl UNDER the visor. I was quite close to complete panic when I reached the gas station. I zoomed into the parking lot and stopped under a light so I could see. As I screeched to a halt, I practically LEAPED out of the vehicle with my hands waving like I was shooing away an entire nest of wasps. I finally got really brave and flipped down the visor. There, in the light of the gas station, was a *&@%$&#(#*&$*&!!@@!!! MOTH.