Yesterday (October 17, 2002), I was installing ˝” wire-mesh-mouse-guards
now that I was finally on Fall Break, for nightly the mercury had started
to sink into the 40’s. Although it was cold in the morning, it was balmy
70’s when I was attaching the wire-guards. There was little wind to speak
of. It was one of those paradisal days here on earth right before the
cyanide of frost stiffens every living creature. I finished one apiary on
an Experimentation Farm [Ladino clover] without any incident, but when I
worked on one of my Carniolan hives across town, huge black bees boiled
out, as I *gingerly* hammered in three U-shaped, smallest fence nails, on
the edges of the hive and one at the center. I wore my veil, but used no
smoke, as I wont to, especially since I was wearing my early winter
clothing—but was wearing a sandal, over a pair of white, cotton socks. A
dozen of them got me on the exposed top of my feet through the sock,
forcing me to whimper a fowl language, unawares. The ground zero felt
like a pin-cushion that I had to quit the job, walked back to my pick-up,
and had to put on a pair of plastic gloves on my feet, the best resource I
had under the circumstance. Although my socks gave me some measure of
protection, my left foot swelled up, not too much but just enough that I
had to loosen my shoestring when I jogged later in the evening. The next
day the small swelling had gone completely although I still could feel the
sensation of getting stung there. While growing up, I used to have a
systemic reaction to ground hornets. But as I get stung numerous times in
a given year by honeybees, I feel safe. It seems the first sting in the
early spring makes me swell a little since during winter I have not been
exposed to any sting. Also, I try to calm myself down *mentally* when I
am under a massive attack, say, while taking down a feral colony, trying
to be aware what is happening around and inside me, something that I have
developed over the years.
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