Two days ago, I went out to pull some weeds. That is such a satisfying garden task--especially when the weeds, like these ones, have shallow roots, and so you tug, and the entire plant just comes up in your hands. Spend five minutes pulling, and you get such an improvement in the look of the garden--it no longer looks shaggy and untended.
Unfortunately, while pulling weeds, I stumbled onto a hive of ground wasps. I was just minding my own business, pulling weeds, when suddenly there was about two dozen little yellow devils hovering within a arms length of me.
They found me, too, quickly. I had never been stung by a wasp before, and damn! it hurts!
Worse, the demon got its stinger into me, and then got stuck. It was beating its little wings frantically, but couldn't pull out. I didn't want to kill it, for fear of leaving the stinger in my skin. I had to free it, while trying to get others out of my shirt (yup--got stung just below my shoulder too). I scurried out of the way, and those bastards landed on me and STAYED, looking for somewhere to sting me. I ended up having to trap them off of my body and release them outside so they didn't sting the kids.
The first one got me on the finger. The index finger. On my right hand.
That's right--the one I click with. My mousing hand was disabled, and I had to take some time off of the computer. Withdrawal is such an ugly condition.
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1 comment:
Ow. Ow. and Ow. I can relate. (although Yellowjackets seem to be my villian of choice.) a) I was once stung on my index finger as I was crossing a street. My first knuckle and an insect collided at the exact, precise moment. What are the odds? and b) I was attacked by a swarm at age 5 - I remember to this day the embedded stinger in my left wrist and the many bugs in my clothes.
I feel you pain. But glad you are ok!!!!
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