No, I’m not drunk, good Lord. Just wait.
Had I seen you on the street last Monday, and had you asked how I was I likely would have answered, “Fine. You?” Because as of last Monday, all hell hadn’t broken loose yet…
Had I seen you on the street last Tuesday at, say, noon MDT, and you asked how I was, I would have been challenged to say anything beyond, “Not fine.”
And then on Thursday evening, had you asked, I would have, with trembling lip, told you I was near-devastated.
Why all the angst, you might ask? And good reason you would have to do so!
I’ll tell you. But first, probably the only reader here likely to know what sento nel core means (yes, them’s real words), is Manny. Manny is born and bred Italian, so I’m assuming he would be able to tell you that those words mean “sorrow unending.”
Here’s what happened: on Tuesday morning there was no school for Eduardo because it was parent-teacher conference day. So, after his conference, we came home and I asked him to get some of the fill dirt to put in the sink hole that keeps forming in the backyard. He, God bless him, dumped three loads before it got to be too much, and the hornets that have made a hive in the hole got a bit active. So I told him to quit even though the hole wasn’t quite full.
When he first loaded the wheelbarrow, he overestimated how much he could successfully tip out of it and some of the dirt tipped off to the side of the hole, instead of in it. So, with my head in the air (as in “airhead”), I just grabbed the hoe and tried to push some of the dirt off of the grass and into the hole. I wasn’t aggressive and I wasn’t closer than about 4 feet.
Then I got stung. Just above my right knee, probably 6-8 times. I screamed bloody murder, dropped the hoe and ran into the house.
they even LOOK sinister
I’ll tell you something – those stings HURT like a very bad swear word basically using the formal words for mommy and unlawful carnal knowledge.
After twenty minutes or so, my knee had swelled up to the size of half a tennis ball and the pain was unbelievable. That was also when I first noticed the uncomfortable stinging sensation on my belly….
The little bastards got me there, too. I don’t know why that one didn’t hurt as much, but I tell you what, Wednesday night the pain itching was awful on both spots and it kept me awake.
Why all the drama? Well, these are my very first bee stings. Ever. In all my 55 years! I friggin’ hate bees. I can hardly be outside anymore – every little flying thing scares the *hi* out of me.
Oh hell, I can’t even talk about what happened Thursday yet….so never mind….forget I said anything…for now….
Over and out.
And if you behave, I might tell you why I chose to title this in Italian! You know I will.