I went to a wedding this weekend at a beautiful farm outside of Portland. When it came time to eat, we all took our plates outside to sit at picnic tables under a small grove of trees. The sun was out, a pleasant breeze was blowing, horses were frolicking in an adjacent field, and I spent the whole time hyperventilating as a group of yellow jackets darted around the table and one of them leisurely ate my sandwich.
To answer the obvious question, no, I’m not allergic to bee stings, I’ve just harbored a phobia of bees ever since I was a kid (or maybe ever since I saw “My Girl”?) that, to my chagrin, hasn’t abated in adulthood. Here are four ridiculous things I’ve done as a result of my ridiculous fear of bees… Keep reading »





