Not really, but I should have. This post really has nothing to do with weight loss. At all. Except that I probably peed my pants.
Well the hot gossip around the farm today is how I just had the most traumatic weekend of my life. Short of someone dying, or a major medical event, it was the most horrific thing I have ever been through. Seriously. Shortly after we moved in, we realized that there was a swarm of bees living in the eaves at the top of our roof. No biggie, my husbands’ a bee keeper, right? Well, he called around and everyone said that if they aren’t getting in the house (which they weren’t) to leave them until late winter, cause then they are hibernating and you can get them out easier. Cool. So, here we are in late winter, and on Saturday Mr. M says that he thinks we should get the bees out. It was a nicer day, so we wouldn’t freeze or anything, and the bees were still in “hibernation.” Cool. So, we get out our big ladders, and remove the boards where we suspect the bees to be. They are not there. Crap. So we continue to saw off the side of our house, and we finally find the HUGE comb where they are living in the side of our house. It’s probably a 5 foot by 5 foot span. And, when Mr. M took of the chunk of siding it RAINED BEES ON MY HEAD. Like, 2,000 bees. I cried. Not lying, I bawled like a baby. (We were, by the way, wearing protective bee gear. That didn’t keep me from being very, very scared.) We decided to be done for the day (this took about 5 hours) and called it quits until Sunday.
Sunday morning we headed out at about 8am. We hacked away at the comb, putting it into one of Mr. M’s hives. It was three combs thick in that space. The bees were not happy, nor were they hibernating any more. After we got it all out, and cleaned the inside wall of the house, we had to reassemble everything and bee proof it so that they couldn’t get back in. I had to stand on a ladder with bees swarming around my head and try to nail boards back to the house. I don’t like ladders or bees. Enter mental breakdown #2. I was standing on the ladder holding a board above my head, bees in my face, scared to death, sobbing. Andy was on the other ladder, and he’s telling me to just drop the board and get down, it’s okay, and I DID IT ANYWAYS. Because I am superwoman. Just kidding. But I felt like it. I don’t think I convey to you just how scared I was. It was insane.
The moral of the story is that I took a sick day today to recover from my mental trauma. Happy Valentine’s Day.
(And you can laugh a little at my pain. It’s fine.)