When I was a young girl I had a good throwing arm. I was always selected first and always voted to be the pitcher for the team. Despite being a girl I could throw like a boy. I could slice the air with stitched leather in a way many boys were envious of. Being of Catholic persuasion I was soon put on the softball team and taught how to throw like a girl. That sissy namby pampy under arm method that made me grit my teeth. But being the good Catholic I was I learned the game, and was good at striking out my opponents. I had a fast pitch that rocked your eyeballs. Slammed the cow right out of the catcher's mitt. I had no idea that my aim would still remain intact over soooooo many years. While walking along my newly made walking trails on my property I came upon a left-over piece of wood from the construction of the house. Just a very short section of a decaying 2 x 4 I gave it a casual toss into the trees. It never came down so I stepped closer to see what happened. The block of wood chose that moment to fall to the earth followed by a hornet's nest the size of my head. Did you know a disturbed hornet's nest sounds remarkably like 50 Rattlesnakes crammed in a mason jar? Enraged winged serpents charged from that astonishingly tiny hole like surfers heading for a hurricane. Terrified scream-less, I jolted my old legs into action. Arms pumping, my bladder grabbed a hold on my pelvic bones, and I streaked away in the manner of a trained sprinter. My spleen hugged my pancreas while my liver wrapped around my kidneys for comfort. For 50 yards, I was an Olympic contender. Then I lost my hat. Ain't no way a self respecting old lady is going to lose her hat. Nothing special, just a bright orange hunter's cap that I wore just in case my husband needed to find me real quick, or a hunter mistook my lumbering for the graceful walk of a deer. I turned back only to not see my usually bright orange cap. Then I saw this squirming mass of wings, stingers, and pumping abdomens. The hornets were attacking my beautiful hat! I stared for moment, saw one hornet look up at me, raise its wings, and again I was running. Streaking across the pasture like a graceful gazelle avoiding a marauding lion. I don't think my feet touched the steps leading to the house. I locked the doors and closed all the windows-just in case the hornets followed my scent. I went from window to window to make sure I was safe. I gathered all the hornet spray I had. And waited. I turned the airconditioning to 65 just in case one got in the house. Today I bought a new orange hat. I let the hornets have mine. After all I did destroy their nest. Teach me to be portentous about my pitching days.