It began innocently enough, Steve and I decided it was time to clear a four acres parcel for additional cow pasture. Steve would work the chainsaw and I would follow behind to toss the severed limbs into the woods, in order to establish a fence line. Just like most projects, we began to hit our stride early; saw, toss and move along, saw, toss and move along….and then it happened…..I learned a valuable lesson today; chainsaws, hornets and a husband with a bum knee do not mix well.
One of Steve’s knees is pretty much shot from years of basketball, jogging and now tennis. His range of motion is down to almost nothing, but he still gets the job done around here; he just doesn’t bend his knee much! As he worked the chainsaw, Steve reached to tackle a particularly thick limb. As it came down and he attempted to move to the side, Steve got both his feet tangled in thorny vines, so as he tried to step away, he tripped. He managed to throw the chainsaw aside as he fell, but his knee bent all the way and he cried out in pain.
I rushed over as he writhed on the ground, cradling his knee. I bent down to assess, but suddenly Steve is yelling “ow, ow, ow, holy f**k, ow, ow, ow”. Then I saw them…..literally hundreds of hornets all over him. He had fallen onto an underground hive. Suddenly his knee didn’t seem like the worst of his problems as he jumped up and began “running” on one leg as fast as he could, arms flaying with a look of horror on his face as he turned back to see if they were still chasing him. He kept yelling to me asking if they were still in hot pursuit while I kept yelling at him to run faster.
So our fence clearing is on hold this afternoon as we wait for the chainsaw still running in the field to run out of gas so the hornets will calm down and we can retrieve it. That’s okay. I’m sitting in here googling how to kill those mother fuckers.