In a previous post I mentioned that a couple of days ago, Papa Pea was mowing near the bee hives and got nailed in the forehead by one of our honey bees.
Yesterday he worked in the bee yard splitting an over-crowded hive into two hives. Even though the day was sunny and the bees should have been in a good mood, they were not. Papa Pea was decked out in his full bee suit and he used his smoker which usually calms them down and makes them sluggish, but it didn't. He reported they were wild and crazy and very upset with him when all he was doing was trying to help them out by alleviating their congested living conditions.
This morning I was sitting out on the front lawn giving some loving to Maisy, one of our granddogs who hasn't been feeling very good, when a bee started buzzing my head. It was a mad bee. A very mad bee. What was his problem? I did nothing to him. He apparently drank cranky juice for breakfast because his buzz was that of a bee on a kamikaze mission. Once you hear that particular sound, you always recognize it and know you are in trouble.
Being around the bees has never bothered me, but since my sensitivity to their sting seems to be increasing over the last few years, I gotta admit to feeling a little more panic than a big, strong homesteading gal should when in the situation I found myself this morning.
Trying not to lose my composure completely, I thought if I got up and went in the house, the bee would stay outside. Wrong.
By this time, he had tangled himself in my hair and I knew it was just a matter of time before he found a tender spot in which to plant his ringer-dinger of a stinger.
Running through the house and out the door to our attached garage, I yelled, "I need help. I've got a bee caught in my head!" Well, he wasn't IN my head, but hubby got the message. As I tried to hold still and Papa Pea tried to remove the bee without getting stung himself, Mr. Bee's butt made contact with my scalp at the back of my head and he let me have it.
Now, I'm not a wimp and happen to have a very high level of pain tolerance but, holy macaroni, did that hurt!
After hubby extracted the stinger, we immediately put the cut side of an onion on the site (the onion juice supposedly draws the bee venom out of the skin) and I took the homeopathic remedy, Apis, which counteracts the effect of the venom in one's system. Then Papa Pea made a poultice of baking soda and water which I've worn all day.
Betcha would have a hard time figuring out what this was a picture of if you didn't know, huh? (Kinda looks like I got shot with a caulk gun. Splat!)
When hubby went out to close up the poultry early tonight, he reported he was chased back into the greenhouse by an angry bee who, by all rights, should have been tucked into his hive and settled down for the night at that hour.
I don't know what's gotten into our normally mild-mannered, well-behaved bees but I sure hope they get over their current hissy-fit but quick.
I tell ya, life on the homestead can be dangerous. If it's not Father Goose being overly protective and taking a chunk out of your leg, it's bees who are becoming down right dysfunctional!
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