Yesterday, I planted a hibiscus outside my bedroom door. I pulled some weeds, rearranged a few planters, fully immersed in my happy little zen place. As I was positioning a little garden angel to better rest in the imagined spring violets, I felt a sudden white hot stab of pain in my hand. A moment later an army of wasps rose menacingly out of the little angel. I didn’t stick around to see what would happen next.
I was wearing what I normally wear when I garden, which is basically the equivalent of a space suit. By now I’m familiar with the routine of everything in my garden trying to kill me, so I was shocked that the little bugger managed to stab me clear through my thick rubber gloves. He got me on the right hand, just under the knuckle of my ring finger. Today whenever I try to curl my hand to do things like open the fridge, get the peanut butter jar, turn on the kitchen sink, type, grab my phone, brush my teeth, read my book, or well, anything, there is a bone deep ache in that joint. A preview of coming arthritic attractions, I suppose. How something so small can wreck such huge havoc is quite the mystery, and also possibly the hope for us all.
Meanwhile, the bruised universe on my leg appears to be expanding. The swirl of amethyst is now dotted with peach pinpoints, while the periphery is a nicotine-yellow haze. On the whole, the bruise bears a resemblance to the melting face of a swamp monster – the sort of thing you would see chasing a panicked Scooby Doo.
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October 11, 2013 at 4:19 pm
Maddie Cochere
Please forgive me that I smile when I finish reading your posts. You tell your tales of woe with such flair. π
November 18, 2013 at 11:26 pm
Lunar Euphoria
Thanks Maddie. I don’t mind you smiling at all.
November 18, 2013 at 8:17 pm
Lynda
You know, I was stung by a mud dauber on the wrist this Saturday and it became very swollen. I lay in bed till the wee hours of Sunday morning wondering why my arm, and the joints in my wrist and thumb were aching so bad. I had no idea that a wasp bite could do that to you! π―
Glad you shared this.
PS: And thank you for the visit! Your sense of humor comes through loud and clear when retelling your calamities. (ref: the bucket.) I taught preschool for many years and you simply must have a sense of humor in order to survive it! ‘-)
November 18, 2013 at 11:34 pm
Lunar Euphoria
Thank you for checking out my blog. And yes, those mean stingers wreck havoc in the body. The wasps are everywhere today, teased out of hiding by the warm front we’re having. Still it is November, so they languish about in flightless slow motion as I walk past them smugly.
Preschool is a whole new world for me. Never would I have imagined this life! But here it is….all good.
November 30, 2013 at 1:54 am
Dana
I wonder if your garden residents (plants, flowers, creatures, etc.) call secret meetings and plot your demise together? Alas, I don’t have a garden, but sometimes, I’m convinced our upstairs neighbours “take shifts” to make sure somebody is always awake and stomping around. No rest for the wicked, right?
December 5, 2013 at 3:24 pm
Lunar Euphoria
I bet the thorns and wasps meet covertly in the evenings. Yesterday, in fact, the pampas grass reached out and tripped me as I was walking by AND one of its razor sharp leaves gave me a nice painful papercut in two different places in the process.
I feel your pain about neighborly stomping. When I lived in AR, my downstairs neighbor played his war video games in stereo full blast. My floor was always vibrating like he was stomping around on his ceiling.