ain't no stoppin' us

The kids and I had a grand (albeit sweaty) time cleaning up the yard today. We raked dead leaves, fallen twigs, nuts and gravel from around the sad azalea beds and yard. The front and side yards were complete when we stopped for cinnamon buns that my husband brought home for breakfast. It was a comfortable day even though my shirt was soaked in sweat.

With breakfast done, we headed out to tackle the back yard. We had previously located (in the worst ways) two yellow jacket nests. Little did we know that we'd stumble into a third today. My back to her, raking more piles for her to hoist into the large trash can, I heard Caitlin scream. It was a sharp, piercing, ceaseless explosion of pain. I turned to her to see a bee clinging to her arm, as if it were actually stuck. Turns out, it was.

Funny how fast things happen and you don't remember exactly in what order or how. I can't remember if I actually pulled the bee off her, swatted it off, or with what. I have to assume my bare hand. If left a good portion of its abdomen and the stinger behind. I know that I scooped her up in one arm and carried her to her daddy. I have no idea what my right hand was doing (probably still holding to the rake), but I specifically remember putting my left arm behind her and grabbing her under her arm, hoisting her to safety.

James pulled the stinger from her arm and we hurried her inside. All the while, I was feeling little pierces on my thighs. A yellow jacket cousin had buzzed right up my shorts and stung me four times. Cait and I were sad sights. Large red whelps formed immediately and daddy deemed the yard unsafe for anymore clean up. Thank the Lord above that Jackson was not near us when the bees unleashed their fury.

After ice, acetaminophen, and plenty of tears, Caitlin calmed down and the stinging has subsided. My legs ache and for a while I had sporadic cold chills. We're okay. It's the kids coming in two weeks for Neighborhood Bible Club that we're worried about. A pest control representative paid us a visit and said they will aggressively pursue the 'jackets and their sometimes basketball-sized underground nests.

It's unreal that our yard has at least three of these nests and possibly more.  All I can think is that God must have something wonderful in store for our NBC for these attacks to persist.

Jesus, bring the rain and we will continue to praise you!

Photo: The Bee That Stung Me, by Casey Higgins