flowers

Tonight I was outside planting flowers with Eva and I stepped on a bee. I was actually pulling up dead clover and pulling off fat purple clover flowers to dry. I stepped right into a patch of white clover, totally unthinking, oblivious to the bees below. She stung my toe and can I just say how much that bee sting hurt? Un-bee-lieve-able. Beelieve it. I slathered it with toothpaste and took apis and it is still throbbing now, nearly an hour later. Eva was so helpful, running for the tweezers so that I could pull the stinger out and then running for toothpaste. She said, "Momma I sure know how much that hurts!" Yes sweetie! She was stung just a couple of weeks ago at the park underneath her pinkie toe and we didn't have toothpaste or apis at the time. Ai yai yai.

It's interesting and funny that I did not want to pull the stinger out with my fingers, which is something I have done for Eva on a number of occasions. Too squeamish? I think I was convinced it would hurt far too much if I touched it with my hands and I waited for the tweezers.

I sat and looked at the stinger, saw the little fluffy bee-ness attached to the stinger, thought about the bee who was now dying somewhere in the clover field, and hollered like mad. I was in such a bad temper all day that hollering and shouting about the bee sting and how much it hurt was surprisingly cathartic. And then at other times it just hurt so much I wondered aloud at the power of the bee sting.

I wish I could have said, Little Bee, just give my foot a little nudge, a gentle tap, to let me know you are there, give me a chance to move my foot! before exploding all of that pain into my toe. Just let me know and I will move my foot so fast you won't even remember it was there and we can both bee on our way...



Flowers from the nursery we were planting this evening. Yes, that is a unicorn in the box with the flowers. Also present? Several packets of salad greens and radish seeds. Oh and carrots!



Ferrel violets living it up in the yard. Eva put a brick fence around them so they would be protected. I am hoping to transplant them to a less in-the-middle-of-the-yard spot, but I guess that is the lawn-mower part of me showing itself. The other part of me, obviously, thinks it is adorable and beautiful and also thinks the flowers will probably stay there until it freezes. No more lawn mowing then, after all. Eva is incredibly persuasive when it comes to flowers staying put in the middle of the yard.