Porwest Under Attack by an Angry Mob. No, Really!

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I am sure there will be some here who will jump up and down gleefully, "Well that serves that loudmouth, cantankerous fool right!" Hey, enjoy your moment. I won't deny it to you or think any less of you for it either. You see, I'm still in the clear in some ways. I saved my butt when all is said and done in an odd way. I'll get to that in a minute. I finished up cutting the front and the back with the riding mower and was going to break out the weed whacker to do some trimming around the fence line and some other areas. Then I got a whim. It's not that humid today. Why not do the hill? It might mess my back up a bit, but I'll just deal with it. Besides, I might get some brownie points from the wife. Backing up a bit, my wife generally does the hill with the self-propelled push mower. It's a pain in the butt but she doesn't want me screwing up my back and so she just takes care of it. Usually, she'll have words for me if I try. Anyway, I got pretty much the entire hill done when all of a sudden I felt something painful on my leg. Then again and again and again. And then I heard buzzing all around me. Sh*t! Yellow jackets! I knew what was going on because I did pest control for a little over four years. They nest in the ground. I had run over a yellow jacket nest and they were not happy about it. I bounded down the hill ripping my hat off my head, swatting frantically. I lost my footing and rolled in my neighbors gravel driveway. They were on me like white on rice. Stinging and buzzing. I sort of got up but went right back down, rolling on the ground trying to get them off me and back on my feet. Up again for seconds then down again. Rolling again. More buzzing. More landing stings. Up again, now down again. My hat became a sail and it was gone. Now it was just me and the yellow jackets with only my hand to try to keep them away. Rolled some more. Up again and down again. I could NOT get my footing at all! I was almost to the next neighbors yard two doors down. And that's saying something considering Mary directly next door has a double lot. They chased and chased. How many times did I get stung? I don't know. 14 times? Maybe more. On my legs, on my ear, on my shoulder, on my arm. Finally the buzzing stopped and I knew I was in the clear. But holy cow! I will be calling an exterminator at once. Not that I can't do it myself. I know how. I did it for four years. But I don't have a bee suit or a bellows duster or chemicals anymore. Now, where I saved myself? My wife would have come home from work and done that hill. And had she done that hill she'd have been the one attacked. Now, I realize that it's her choice to do the hill. But had she been mauled by an angry disturbed nest of yellow jackets, bad back or no... A coroner may have to have been called to haul me away.