I wish I could even come close to calculating. Let's just say there are a lot. We've got wasps, ladybugs (the smelly kind), bottle flies, and who knows what else up there. The scary thing is that the wasps (and all the others, but the wasps seem to be the most aggressive) have been making their way into the house. Not cool.
Last night I went into the attic armed with a respirator, head-to-toe skin coverage, and two cans of super-strength wasp/hornet killer. The instructions said to have one point of light--located away from me since any stinging types would be attracted to the light--and to spray from a distance of at least 7-10 feet from the nest. So here I am, in dim (at best) light, spraying nests. Imagine my horror when I suddenly hear loud angry buzzing coming right toward me. Ack! I sat very, very still on my board-across-joist perch, and hoped they would in fact go toward the light (pun intended). No luck. Some did, but a few landed ON ME. And they were not happy, not happy at all. It totally freaked me out. I wiggled back through our cubbyhole and down into the bathroom and proceeded to have a major case of the willies.
The worst part about all of this is that I have to go back up in two days to scrape down and dispose of the nests so they don't come back and set up housekeeping again. I'm sure that'll be great. Just great.
The attic is going to be a project in itself. We need to get up there with a whisk broom and dustpan and clear out all the dust, spiderwebs, old nests--bird, bug, and otherwise, nut hulls left by trespassing squirrels, and all that other stuff. Then we need to insulate it; only problem is we don't know how we'll get insulation into the attic. The cubbyhole is 22 inches wide and about 16 inches deep. Just enough for a human . . . probably not enough for a human and/or a large roll or pack of insulation. Looks like putting in attic stairs might jump over some things on the priority list.
If you don't hear from me soon, it's because I lost my mind upon trip #2 into the attic to vanquish all things stingy and mean. I may be in a corner somewhere, curled into the fetal position and weeping ever so quietly.
Wish me luck.