It’s a beautiful sunny day, 20+C, no wind, few clouds and I’m laying on the trampoline. Chilling. Minding my own business. When a bee comes buzzing round my head. I swipe at it, as one does. Several times. Before it hones in and a split second before I can connect and knock it out, it lands it’s arse right on the side of my neck. Leaving it there. Sticking out like a tiny little spear.
Dodging all the stuff that suddenly appeared in my way, I managed to get inside without further injury, while the dog looks on perplexed, choice words being all I can manage.
A quick check in the mirror to see the bite location, grabbing a tissue and then carefully extracting the bee’s bum from my neck.
The relief was almost instant. A dab of cream and I’m all good. The little bugger died. I tried to warn it. But it was determined to get me.
Well, I was all good until mr 15 says ‘what bee sting?’ and pokes right on it this evening. Not impressed at all. That hurt.
The nice surprise?
One of my neighbours had some protea for sale at the end of the road. Several times I drove past today, and thought how pretty they looked, I’d buy a couple later. I never got the chance. On phoning home this evening while out on an errand, I was informed there were two bunches of flowers left in our mailbox (it’s quite large so they weren’t squashed).
If/when I find out who it was I will definitely find a way to pay them. They are simply beautiful and it was a lovely surprise at the end of the day.