Yep, that's me. Grace in motion.
A couple of weeks ago I dutifully meandered downstairs and decited to clean out the lower portion of the deck. In my cleaning frenzy, I managed to uncover a huge assed wasp nest. Not good. I vaguely remember thinking "Oh Shit" before my body took over. All thoughts of reason escaped my being. Pure reaction took over. The result? Let's just say I really wish someone had been there with a camera.
I vaguely remember some weird high-pitched obnoxious noise escaping from what I can only presume was me. I vaguely remember turning as part of that "flight mode" you see on programs like Animal Kingdom. (No, Marlin Perkins and his many "Jims" were not narrating, although that would have been a nice touch.) I vaguely remember the support beam coming closer to my face, surprisingly faster than I thought possible.
Next thing I remember - me on the ground wondering why I hurt. Molly, the dog, came over to see if I had discovered any tasty mole bits. Deciding that I was not hoarding any decaying bits, wandered off, unimpressed at what I can only assume was a fantasic crash and burn. I managed to assess that I was not bleeding, and crawled my way back into the house.
The end result of all this activity? Two skinned knees, a bruised collar bone, a spectacular black eye, and a mild concussion. Needless to say I never got around to cleaning out under the deck, but the hubby did manage to empty a brand new can of wasp spray on the nest, cackling with glee as he shrieked "DIE DIE" all the while.
