There's nothing quite like a bee sting to test one's language restraint. It was brave of me to take the hit instead of Joel, but to be frank, neither of us really knew it was there.
"aargh you git of a bee ... oooh crap!" And thus it was proven that I have totally given up all swearwords apart from the two widely recognised "allowable" youth pastor swearwords: because you have to say something right? If I read any letters that I wrote Liz between the age of 16 and 22 (cos we're cute and we kept them all), I am truly appalled with my ability to swear. So I am glad of this test today .. I don't swear any more.
I have to confess I am trying to eliminate the crap word, because it would just be so cool to totally NOT swear at all. The word git, for all you Canadians who have never heard it, is defined here.
Back to the sting, the bee apppeared to concentrate on poison quality rather than quantity. The pain was excruciating for a while, and much worse if I touched my toe. Then the endorphins kicked in very very well, if I had been standing at that point, I would have floated gently into a lying position on a bed of clouds and feathers. My brain went a bit fluffy.
So we went to buy me a new pair of flip flops, and I will wear them in the backyard.