Okay, you might think this is just black helicopter, conspiracy stuff…but I’m gonna go there anyway. #:0) Amid dire warnings that bees are an endangered species–at least a certain kind of bees, and let’s be honest no bee is a good bee unless it’s busily creating sweet gold (honey)–at my mini castle among the trees we are living through bee-mageddon. Yep, that’s right, a real live episode of Night (and Day) of the Killer Bees. They’re everywhere, hiding in holes in the ground, surging from rotting tree trunks, stinging unwary travelers of both the human and canine kind.
The nasty buggers have a serious chip on their…erm…shoulders. It used to bee…heheheh…that I believed if I left them alone they would leave me alone. I no longer bee-lieve that. #:0) After watching their determined and unwarranted (mostly) assault on my loved ones, furry and non-furry alike, I’ve come to realize I’m dealing with a hostile takeover of my woods.
Laugh all you want, unwary traveler. Today it’s my woods, tomorrow it might be your yard! Bee-ware. Bee advised. Bee forewarned. This is war.
I’m donning my thickest clothing. Arming myself with the farthest shooting spray I can find. And going into battle, motorcycle helmet firmly in place to protect my delicate orifices. Rest assured, gentle reader, I will take one for the team. I’ll keep the insurgent forces contained. And I won’t evacuate the woods until the enemy is quashed.
Or until I run out of spray. Then I’ll run like hell for home.
At that point, you’re on your own! Sux to be you.