Friday, 24 August 2007
Bee bite
Editor note: sting, not bite. I think that at first I thought “something was biting me,” it turned out “something was stinging me.”
Out doing the yard work this evening.
Felt a bite, looked down, saw a black mass on my short sock, and in a flurry of gloved hands, batted it away.
In the action of batting, it occurred to me that I should confirm exactly what was biting me. It was black... round... oh, shit. A spider?!
The mower coughed to a stop as I looked at the ground and saw the offender squirming, dying. “Bumble bee.”
I forgot how much they sting—hence the name I suppose; I don’t think I have been stung in 30 years—but calmed myself after verifying the genus, grabbing the handle of the mower, pulling the starter, to finish my chore.
Some swelling on the ankle as I type this.
Pretty sure I’m not allergic. Pretty sure. ~o)
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Just had to poison a yellow-jacket nest under some bushes. I had already been stung once while weeding. My mother stopped by to let the dogs out and started weeding, herself, while she was waiting for the dogs to finish their business and got stung twice. Developed an alergy for the first time in her life. Thank goodness for modern medicine!