The Yellow Jackets Won

(From Tuesday, September 1)
We have an annual tradition of spending a late August or early September evening on my dad's farm filling our pails with blackberries, and our tummies too.  Last week the weather was right, so we all headed out there.  The kids were going to spend the night there too, and sleep on the airstrip, under the stars, which is another tradition the kids have. 

The evening started out innocent enough, a picnic on the airstrip under the setting sun, kids excited.

 Joel and I forgot our sweatshirts (again) so we (again!) used blankets- Joel is the one in the pink striped!

We'd picked for 10 minutes or so and were eyeing some of the Christmas trees for a few months from now when G started screaming.  At first we all froze, not sure what was going on.  Then my dad sprung into action and yelled, "BEES!"  The next several minutes are a blur now.  I know Dad grabbed Garrett, and I remember seeing his red sweatshirt covered in yellow jackets.  There was plenty of screaming and yelling, and lots of running.  It was so awful and just seemed to never end, we kept running and stripping clothes off of kids, but it seemed like we couldn't get away.  Finally it was over and we got back to the van, which was a couple of hundred yards away.  We applied mud to all the stings and bites, and shook sweat shirts.  Joel went back to recover blankets, bowls and clothes that had gotten left behind.  Kids were still crying and snuffling and grown ups were shell shocked.  It was NOT FUN.  We decided to cancel the sleepover and we brought three very sad, sore, and scared kids home.

Thankfully by the next day the kids were all feeling so much better.  Papa had them out again for 'take 2' of the play day and camp out, and thankfully they all wanted to go - and had a great time.  Relief!