Cutting Grass, I Fought The Bee & The Bees Won

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.


It was Thursday last, I cut the EastWing Grass for the final time in 2017. Now for some folks cutting  grass is not a big deal. It was for me. I’ve not cut very much grass this year. My son John has been the primary cutter of the green blades of home this year. All the while the beautiful She has maintained the Flower Gardens of the EastWing.


One gets a different prospective from the seat of the lawn mower. A different point of view so to speak.  I was able to see things in the gardens I’d never seen from the EastWing Windows. Even though the EastWing walls are floor to ceiling glass, the view from the zero turn is much closer to the dirt. And besides, you can’t smell the grass through a window pane.


It was a warm day last Thursday, and many of God’s creatures were in the process of getting ready for colder times to come. The very last of the pretty Monarchs fluttered past my shoulder. Wooly Worms scurried along while the Yellow Jackets were out in mass. I’m a honey bee lover but don’t share the same love and affection for Yellow Jackets. Damn mean little bees


Several years ago, me and the She were cleaning up the  east garden getting ready for winter. I kneeled down and placed my hand on a pile leaves. My left arm up to my elbow was covered with Yellow Jackets within a second. Panic ensued. It was a classic example of when Good Times go Bad.


In that situation no matter how fast you try to remove the Yellow Jackets, you’re gonna get stung. More than once you’re gonna get stung. And so I did, nine bee stings faster than you can say nine bee stings.


Inside I washed the sting sites well with soap and water, applied baking soda and went back to work in the gardens. We finished the outside work for the day and I was surprised that the bee stings had not caused any real issues other than my arm being white from the baking soda. After a few hours, took a  shower  and thought the Yellow Jacket attack was behind me.


I was wrong. At six in the AM the morning after the Yellow Jacket attack, I awoke to a left arm that could easily pass for the Pop Eye Arm. Swollen so large the watch band was cutting into my arm and the ring, Oh Lord,,,,, the ring finger felt like it was going to explode. There was no way the ring was going to come off that finger short of amputation. At that point I plunged my whole hand in ice water and prayed the swelling would go down enough to remove the ring. For the second time that day, I was wrong, and the day was still early.


I called a doctor at home and  explained the bee stings and arm size, with particular emphasis on the finger. He instructed me to be at the local pharmacy an hour earlier than normal opening, and the pharmacist would have medication for me to take right there. The pharmacist was to provide both medication and a  cup of water.


We walked in together that morning, the pharmacist and I. Went straight to the pharmacy, got both the drugs and the water. I didn’t even ask what it was, just took the pills and water and gulped it all down while hoping for some relief from the exploding arm and  especially the exploding finger. After paying for the  drugs and while walking to my car I felt a difference. At first just barely, then noticeable, then “Oh Thank You Jesus”. I was going to live. I could feel it in my arm, I could feel it in my finger. I was not going to be a fatal victim of the Yellow Jacket Attack.


Within 15 minutes of taking the emergency medication at the pharmacy, it was over. It took another 15 minutes before the  ring came off, but the pain has subsided to the point where  I no longer had  to bite the bullet. So the last 15 minutes were doable.


As  I mowed  past the spot of the Yellow Jacket Attack last Thursday afternoon in the warm autumn sunshine, I wondered if those mean little bees remembered me. I sure remembered the Yellow Jackets, that late autumn day out there in the EastWing Garden  when the leaves had all fallen and the world was turning cold as the Yellow Jackets done me dirty.


From the EastWing, Cutting Grass, I Fought The Bee & The Bees Won


I Wish You Well,