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.