Yup. I got stung. Again. Some of you might remember this little adventure just before we moved: When Moving Preparation Goes Wrong.
Well, this morning at exactly 7:00 am (I checked my phone when it happened) another of the buggers stung me on the outside of my left hand, near base of my thumb. Ouch!
We were walking the dogs, and it was pretty cool. I noted a vibration in the cuff of the outer shirt I was wearing and wondered what it was. I reached down to move it when suddenly it hurt, and then something - a wasp, probably, but perhaps a yellow jacket - flew off.
Thankfully I am not particularly allergic to these things (yet) and all I have is some minor swelling and a tiny bit of pain. Not a big deal.
Except...
What is it about me that get me into these situations? I've seen plenty of wasps flying around our area, and never noted a nest. I've been careful as a result. But at 7 am when the temperature was perhaps 9 degrees (Celsius, for my American readers... it's not that cold) any self respecting wasp should have been asleep or catatonic, not flying into the cuff of my shirt and stinging me for trying to let it out.
Sigh.
Just my luck, I guess.
