Triangles and Wasps Part II

So, I experienced something new on Friday--The day I successfully installed the Second Triangle:
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Do you see that gap under the left bottom edge? Some of that is because there is no floor, but the rest of it is because, as I stated earlier, NOTHING IS RIGHT about this cabin. And by "Right" I mean there are no right angles. Morally and ethically I'm not sure I believe in the abstract concept of "right"--but, clearly, that is a different subject.

While I prepared to install Second Triangle, I gathered some new things--namely a 10 year-old spray can of insecticide and a bottle of Benadryl tablets. I wanted to be ready in case I was suddenly attacked by a swarm of angry wasps. If you look at the picture on the right, you can see where I was installing Second Triangle AND the gap in the roof which is a mere 6 feet away from the wasp's nest below.

I had, streaming through my head, various scenarios of how this drama would go down. In most of them, I am panicked, lying on my back, arms flailing with the sputtering can of Raid failing me just when I need it--wasps attaching themselves to my swelling body, a spray of pink pills scattered across the floor--sometimes I'm foaming at the mouth desperately trying to chew and swallow the tablets before I go into anaphylactic shock. Other times, I would have survived the attack except I choke on either the pills or the chemical deluge from the malfunctioning can. Luckily, the wasps tend to only send out a single scout up the the loft to check on the noise--and when I stop hammering and take a deep breath to keep from emitting the "fear pheromone" it eventually hums away. 

My husband is trying to figure out if there is any way we can relocate the nest--or, more precisely, if we can afford to wait to relocate the nest. We will have to wait until the adults die off--circle of life, beautiful thing--to move it. Or, will my husband find me foaming and bloated like in the afore mentioned scenario?

If this blog suddenly stops--you know what happened. 

While I was working, a bunch of sand fell out of the sole of my shoe--this is San Francisco sand! The last time I wore these shoes was on Ocean Beach in SF a month ago. I am charmed by the arrival of foreign soil to my new native land.