First Kiss

On Saturday I had my first kiss on the lips. From Bees. My Father-in-Law is a Natural Bee-Keeper and for the last few years I have watched him gently chat with, and calmly hold space for, the swarms of which he is a peer. The previous Saturday, I had been attempting a Virtual Comrades Marathon. Stuck on the other side of the globe, this Soutie had the goal of 9 Shire laps of 10kms. On the initial laps I would run into the middle of the road (head twisting to check for cars) to avoid the strange post lockdown group walks (that didn’t happen before). By the later laps, legs dying, my inner donkey belligerently thought, “stuff it, they can move, I don’t care if I get Covid”. I threw in the towel at 71km after promising not to end up in Hospital. I did care about Covid. Fast forward, I did approach the bees calmly and gently. What I didn’t know was where I was standing mattered. I was in the way of the entrance. Honey laden virtual comrades were pissed off that I was in their way. So I got stung (kissed). No malice on either part. Just a lack of knowledge because of a different world view, and a little education needed.

Kiss (Sting) on the Lips