In the 1960’s, I went to an old wooden barn north of Amorita where the Guffy boys were loading a hay truck. I brought soft drinks for the guys and decided to stay a while to watch them load the hay. I stood inside of the barn for shade from the hot sun. I was very pregnant and was wearing a flowing maternity top and a skirt. Several Bumble Bees were riled and most likely because the men already had disturbed their nest in the hay barn. Three of those little angry insects flew up under my blouse and socked it to me several times before I knew what hit me. Modesty was not my virtue at the moment and I started flailing about trying to get them out from under my maternity top while flapping the hem of my blouse up and down. I am still not sure whether the guys laughed at my antics or felt sorry for me. I went home and nursed my wounds and lost pride.
When I was a young teen in the mid 1940’s, I well remember playing around our haystack when I noticed the neatest hole in the haystack. It was about the size of a softball. Curiosity got the better of me and I stuck my hand into the hole to feel around. I assumed it was a bird nest and actually expected there would be bird eggs inside. All of a sudden my fingers felt like they were on fire. I could not get my hand drawn out quickly enough. As I drew my burning fingers out several Yellow Jackets came out too. The instant pain was excruciating. It immediately made me so ill that I could barely stand up. The pain lingered for hours; well into the night. To add insult to injury, I got no sympathy from Mama. She told me how stupid it was for me to stick my finger there in the first place. It was such an interesting hole too.