So this is what happens when a big motherf*cking tree falls on top of your hive:
AND THEN THE STINGING BEGINS!
They got me two or three times while I was inspecting the damage, and then were happy to supply an additional dozen stings AFTER I suited up and tried to set the hive to rights.
(Damn them, I was just trying to help!)
The bees managed to stab me in my usual vulnerable spots — knuckles, wristbones, and nipples* — as well as in some unusual, but equally painfully places: my ankles, the corner of my mouth, the underside of my chin, my collarbone, and my scalp. Yes, that’s right, they got in under my veil and gouged me in the back of the head, repeatedly.**
I managed to retrieve the deeps and place them on the ground out of harm’s way before the pain overwhelmed me. Then My Fella did an impressive Valjean on the tree and proceeded to reassemble the hive.
Now I am bee-free, showered, pajama-fied, and doped up on enough diphenhydramine to sedate a brood of at least a half dozen children under the age of 5***. Soon, sleep and strange, strange dreams will come…but first I thought I’d knock out a post before the bee-venom-and-benadryl coma strikes me down for the next 12 hours.