Latest in a seemingly never-ending series on nature’s attempt to murder me.

As I write these words I am trying to ignore a red, itchy welt on my left wrist.

Itchy tells only part of the story. There is burning, too, as if some fiend were intermittently jabbing the center of the welt with the business end of a flame-heated needle.

This has been driving me crazy since the other night, when I was attacked while sitting on my deck by the al-Qaida of the insect world …

The yellow jacket. Doug Clark, SR.

Have yellow jackets or bees got you yet this season?

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