This morning, while minding my own business and walking out back, nearly 3 feet from any given plant that held insect allure, a bee somehow found its way between my eye and my glasses. I think it was a bee. It could have been a yellow jacket or a wasp. I could only hear the buzzing. I hurled my glasses to the ground, something that any glasses-wearer would normally not do. People who have worn glasses for decades usually have a 6th sense about the safety and whereabouts of their glasses. I then pawed and hoped for the offending creature to get the hell off of my face.
I had a span of about 30-some years where I had no stings of any kind. I seemed to forget somewhere in that time that they hurt! I am always amazed now at how much they hurt. I am truly in awe of how much it hurts to get stung in the thin and delicate skin of the eyelid. I'm just thankful it landed there and didn't somehow sting my eye. I don't even know if an eye can be stung. I don't want to find out.
The above, blurry photo was taken with my phone camera. It doesn't look too bad yet. It swelled completely shut within the next 20 minutes. Thank gawd I'm not allergic. I've spent the day in a Benedryl haze with an ice pack strapped to my face. Fun times.
And to think that yesterday, when the youngest lamblet was shrieking about not wanting to pick tomatoes because there were bees out there, I confidently told her that if you leave them alone, they'll leave you alone.
I merely crossed a bee's flightpath... or it crossed mine...
I must say though, bee stings seem to be good for crow's feet.