April 24, 2023

Alan here! 

Something really crazy happened this week—thought you’d want to know.

Let me preface it by saying that …

I love bees.

We had a fishpond when I was a kid. My Dad dug it out for his Koi fish. We had a mossy waterfall and the bees would come to drink water from the moss as the water trickled down.

I would squat next to the bees at 8 years old and pet the bees as they were drinking the water. The bees were always accommodating to my clumsy child fingers. When I pet them a little too hard, they just buzzed a little and flew in small circles before landing on the moss again.

Graduating from petting bees drinking water, I would then pet the bees as they buzzed serenely around the flowers in the garden. Since then, I’ve taken to petting bees whenever I see them. To me, it’s a fond sign of endearment and homage to bees as the vital link of pollination of trees and flowers.

However –

If there is a large hive inside your roof that requires a beekeeper in a full bee suit, to chainsaw the roof open to gently remove them, I would recommend you keep your distance.

Like 2-3 blocks away kinda distance.

With the pastoral nostalgia of my bee-petting childhood firmly in my mind, on Monday morning I stood on the roof next to said fully-suited beekeeper with a chainsaw.

Bad idea, umm, ok, a monumentally bad idea.

Especially when you are 40 feet off the ground and it requires traversing two ladders to make it back down to the ground.

I always thought the phrase, “Don’t kick a hornet’s nest,” was a silly phrase, because of course you wouldn’t, on purpose.

But what if you didn’t – and someone else did?!

Well, what I discovered is that fierce African guard bees are simply not that discriminating. They will just about attack any moving creature within striking range, and I certainly fit the bill. A

s the swarm reached me, I realized that I had to navigate two ladders, and it would be best to allow a few little bee stings rather than to fall off the ladder.

I just didn’t realize that I would have about 10-15 stings within that time … on my face, my head, my neck, my shoulders.

Having made it on the ground, I promptly ran out into the street to evade the buzzing buggers.

I almost got hit by the neighbor driving down the street in front of the driveway, all the while looking like a complete crazy person, zig-zagging around, waving my hands in the air around my head.

It was at that moment I realized that they were in my hair – and not going to be scared away by some silly arm waving.

So I circled back to the house to get the hose to spray the buzzing horde off my head. Then I saw the pool and decided: that would be the better course of action.

As I was diving into the pool, I noticed Justin sitting calmly like a Buddha just off to the side. “Wow, he is so calm and collected,” I thought, “That’s what it takes to not get stung by bees.”

As I surfaced from the water, I saw Justin suddenly jerk his head to one side and the other, as the bees that were following me, found him. He was doing well with the bees, until one decided to explore the insides of his left nostril. When he snorted, the surprised bee went on attack mode!

Luckily, Justin escaped into the house. I stayed in the pool, ducking my head in and out of the water to evade the angry horde. After about 20 minutes, I was finally able to get out of the water slowly and get into the house without a significant trail of bees in my hair.

That evening after being stung about 15-20 times, I felt pretty good. And my seasonal allergies completely disappeared! I was so relieved.

Before bed, I thought, “Well, the bees do like me; I must be immune.” So I went to sleep, and when I woke up at about 2am to go to the bathroom, I thought to myself, “Hmm, I must be more tired than I thought; I can hardly open my eyes”.

And then, morning came:

Tuesday was rough.

I looked – and felt – like I had found the secret Fight Club and forgotten about it. I realized this might be worse than I’d thought … and spent the next couple of days unable to get out of bed.

I was lucky that Katie brought me a Scorpion Elixir to help with the bee stings.

Poison cures poison!

Alison’s Black Salve (some kinda herbal charcoal magic mask) worked wonders to draw out the toxins from the swollen bee stings on my face.

During those two days lying in bed, twitching from PTSD, I was grateful for the soothing, cooling mists of Sacred Body and Sacred Heart. I misted them all over the itchy stings on my face, neck and shoulders. A few days later I graduated to Boundless Wisdom, because I noticed that the PTSD was real.

In the end, I still love bees.

Going forward – I will be more respectful of giving them plenty of distance when they are moving to a new house/hive.

Here’s to the bees,