Our backyard is in full bloom right now. Don’t ask me what kind of flowers there are; all I know is that they are the type that cost no money. Intent on picking some fresh flowers for the house, Sadie and I headed outside with some gardening gloves, shears, and a basket. Oh and an apron. Ok, so it was my cooking apron and not an authentic gardening one, but every respectable gardener needs an apron, right?!
As Sadie rolled in the grass, I clipped away, moving from bush to bush. I was just about to call it quits when I heard the sound of bees…a lot of bees. Now I’m known for exaggerating– I’ll be the first to admit it. But I am not exaggerating when I say that there were at least 30 bees. Ok maybe 20 5, but they were the big ones and they were headed straight for me. Dropping my basket, I tore into the house, leaving poor Sadie outside to fend for herself.
Sweet Sadie was no match for the bees. I’m not sure how many times she got stung, but I heard her yelp several times before making it to the back door. I felt horrible. Before I could retrieve some Benadryl for her, I heard all kinds of commotion coming from my elderly neighbors house. Fearing that the bees had gotten Mrs. Jones, I ran to the front of the house and nearly scaled the fence to get to her.
There she was, with a hose in one hand and a broom in another, screaming at the top of her lungs. Now before you start invisioning a little old helpless lady, thik again. Mrs. Jones is 86 years old and tough as nails. She still drives, mows her grass, and walks to many of the UVA events. Mrs. J got the best of the bees. Ranting and raving, she scooped up the soaking wet dog and headed indoors. I headed indoors too; taking off my apron and vowing to leave the gardening to P Allen Smith.
MR slept through the whole ordeal,
played…and then begged to go to the mall.
She changed her mind as soon as we stepped foot in Belk. We left and called it a day.
I wouldn’t want to tick Mrs. Jones off….