Please. Call Me Odin.
'Tis the season to feed the bees in our area. We've been feeding ours all summer, on the recommendation of more experienced beekeepers in the Carroll County Beekeeper's Association, so that they could expend more resources to draw comb. But this time of year, feeding is especially important so that they have adequate honey stores to get through the winter. The past few weeks have, as documented, been very rainy, which means that the bees haven't been able to forage, and we haven't been able to feed them.
It was drizzling Thursday afternoon. I should have known to put on my veil, but I was in a hurry. I paid for my haste.
I rationalized that I only needed to slide the inner cover back an inch to pour in enough sugar water to get them through the weekend. Unfortunately, as soon as I slid the cover back that measly inch, some angry bees came out. One flew into my face and stung me below the eye. Two others got me: one on the back of my upper arm and the other on the inner part of my knee. I went into the house to get the bee suit, not realizing that I brought three bees into the house with me, one of which whipped through the ceiling fan, smacked into Dad, and stung him in the neck.
My priority was, of course, getting the stinger out of Dad's neck, then catching the remaining bees, so I didn't get out the stingers as fast as I should have.
A baking-soda paste kept the swelling down till after dinner. By the time we arrived at the hotel, though, my eye had begun to swell.
By the next morning, my eye was so swollen I could barely open it.
On my 18th birthday, a tropical storm hit that knocked out our power for eight days. I knew Mother Nature would have a nice present for me to unwrap on the big three-oh too! But I'm not quite sure how to interpret this one.
I spent my birthday with my eye swollen--it didn't hurt a bit, but it was awful to look at--and in sunglasses most of the time in public because it looked so horrible, I was anxious about grossing people out while they were trying to eat or go about their everyday bee-free lives. I asked my family to call me Odin, but since only Bobby knows who that is, that wasn't a very successful campaign on my part. The swelling started to recede that evening and was almost gone midway through Saturday. Now (Sunday), I just have a handsome shiner. I'm not going to try to feed the bees again in the autumn without a veil--lesson learned!
This post was originally posted on Dreamwidth and, using my Felagundish Elf magic, crossposted to LiveJournal. You can comment here or there!