I've been blogging for
about a year. I have completed
multiple challenges, and
lots of DIY projects. All without injury,
until now.
After spending time in the
yard yesterday, I figured I should
capitalize on this pleasant weather while I could, and keep working
outside. When I killed the weeds a few weeks ago, I also sprayed along my
tree line on the North.
My
mom grabbed a lawn chair to
visit with me, and keep me company.
I grabbed a couple shovels and a pair of gloves. The brush/weeds were mostly small trees that took some effort to remove. As we visited I
slowly pulled tree after tree and was making
good progress. I even thought I might
finish before the day was out.
About the same time I was
patting myself on the
back, I felt a
sharp pain on my
foot. I looked down to move my sandaled foot away from the
stick and saw
it. A bee with a death
wish, I was
happy to help. I immediately headed for the house to get some ice, and saw
another it. In my
calmest demeanor, I swatted, screamed, and ran.
Not being a runner, I
tripped and fell. Maintaining that
same level of calm, I
rationally had visions of the swarm scene, in My Girl and jumped up to
continue running into the house, with my now
swelling left foot, scraped and
bleeding right, and
swelling right arm.
I
iced them until I was calm
enough to pull out the
stingers, apply some benedryl, wash and bandage my wound, and
stain treat the capris I was wearing. I then decided that would be a good time to
call it a day, and fix dinner. While eating dinner I noticed that I had
not one, but
two stings on my right arm. My
calm, calculated reaction of swatting the second bee while I screamed and ran, resulted in
it stinging me
twice.
I have heard of women getting stung
on purpose as a beauty treatment. My Vet who witnessed the
entire thing, would most likely
not describe it as
beautiful. I think the words crazed, dirty,
lunatic probably came to mind. Graceful, or not, I am
really glad that My Vet was home when I
attempted this project. Heroically, he
grabbed a can of spray from the garage and doused the remaining bees,
and put away my tools. I was
grateful to not have to go back outside for the night.
The
next day, the weather was still nice. This time I was
ready; thick jeans, tennis shoes,
double gloves. I took a
deep breath and a
long stick to poke around the area My Vet sprayed. Nothing moved, so I poked
again, still nothing. So I got
back to work. About 2 hours later, everything was
dug up and
piled in the trailer for My Vet to dispose of. I
did sustain a
few scrapes from the scraggly trees, that are
staying to provide wind protection. Not enough to disturb this evenings
Olympics viewing though.