The Sting of Love - Bees Pt. 1

I remembered that I needed to post something about bees.

I've been sitting in a coffee shop for a few hours (which is remarkable peaceful considering how many people come in and out.) I'm almost finished with my internet required work - but I needed to get my head on straight again so that I can look it over and deem it finished.

So I thought I'd pop back over here and post something about my bees.

I have loved bees for years. It all started the first time I got stung - when was that you want to know? How did it happen?

I was over at my friends house. She was my best friend for a number of years. I loved her dearly (and still do...) We were having a delightful time visiting along with my twin sister, Ivanna. (Of course you all know who she is! hehe)

The three of us were watching my friends little brothers and two of their friends. For a grand total of four boys. Not a big deal for me - I loved children. After lazing around for a bit we decided that Ivanna would stay with the children and Friend and I would go to the store to get some junk food and soda. (This was YEARS ago, so don't judge harshly.)

I went to the back porch and called the boys up the yard. We thought they should know the plan. So I shouted each of the boys names. I watched in shock as two of the boys jumped up and ran - the opposite direction! Around a fence and out of view. The two brothers of my friend were rushing toward me. But then I heard (and they must have too) a shriek. The boys halted and then began traveling back toward their friends.

Then I saw it - a cloud if you will - of oh, oh! BEES! I knew enough about bees at the time to know that

A. They defend their hive
B. That they will keep stinging if you're close by
C. That the best thing to do is get away from where they live.

So I raced down the hill and got to the boys. There was a crazy lot of bees. And as I dragged the boys away from where they stood rooted to the ground I saw bees flying out of their shirts, down the necks of their collars, clustered at their waists. After going a good distance from where the hive was located, I knew the only thing to do was strip down.

I commanded them to take off their clothing. They protested. I help them get to it. As they took off their shirts they were covered in bees. They took off their pants - more bees. Of course, there was a lot of screaming and yelling. There were even tears. The noise attracted the friends boys' mother, who came over shouting at me. (Understandably - the woman didn't know me and her boy's were crying and mostly undressed. Which would be scary in a very scary way!) Then she saw their bodies. They had more stings covering their bodies then could be easily counted.

She got her sons and raced them to the ER, where they both were given shots and ended up just fine.

I, myself, got about five stings and four bites. (Or some sort of combination of stings and bites.) The trip to the store was canceled. I was extremely tingly, and my lips went numb. But after a quick call to poison control felt comfortable not going into the ER (or urgent care) and just relaxed.

And as I lay upon the couch recovering, I fell in love. Bees: delightful, powerful, beautiful and wonderful. Instead of the sting of death, it was the sting of love. And I've never stopped loving them.