A project I've wanted to do for about 15 years is to put a row of paving bricks around the house, and a layer of gravel between the bricks and the house.

The idea is to have a No-Growing-Stuff zone adjacent to the house.

This spring, Home Depot put the bricks I wanted on sale, and the time was finally right.

This has *NOT* been a weekend project. I've been working on it all summer, for a bit under an hour every time my schedule and the weather permits. I don't feel a need to work in the rain, or if the temperature is over 80 (F).

The project was going fairly well until I reached the back side of the house. I let the rake fall against the wall I'd be working on next, and heard a sound like a fleet of British Spitfires rising to combat the Nazi menace.

Little yellow and black bugs were erupting from under the siding where I'd leaned the rake.

Unlike the German bombers of 1941, I can fly backwards. Which I did. I proved I can run faster backwards than forwards, and left the fighter squadron patrolling an empty area.

Once things calmed down, I got close enough to get a picture of the fighter squadron and sent it to a couple bee-keeper friends.

The imitation Spitfires were identified as yellow jackets.

They recommended I call in a professional.

Instead, I took a page from the Allies strategy and went back under cover of darkness and saturation (bug) bombed the area. When this was ineffective, I repeated the process with extreme prejudice.

Alas, my attempt to bomb my foe into submission was as effective as the German Blitz. I'm certain I annoyed them, but they vowed to Keep Calm and Prepare For Winter.

I finally went behind enemy lines at night with a head-lamp so I could thoroughly scout the area. The yellow-jackets have totally destroyed a section of trim, and I could look behind it - into a huge empty space!

I finally realized that this wasn't a normal section of wall, they'd broken into the chimney enclosure: a big empty area with lots of places to build nests that can't be reached by just squirting poison between the cracks.

That was the last battle for me. Time to play the nuclear option. I called in a professional wasp killer.

A day later (changing metaphors) a wizard wearing a Robe of Impenetrability arrived with a Wand of Poison. Verily, he did'st valiant battle against these most fearsome foes and slew them suckers dead.

A few days after the Massacre at Chimney Heights, I ventured forth once more to survey the scene of the encounter. I've got to replace about 6 feet of trim. Luckily, I've still got some of the original paint and a length of cedar plank to replace it with.