When I was raking the yard last week, I noticed a hornet’s nest hanging in a tree outside my bedroom. I mentioned it to my husband, and he said he would take care of it over the weekend when he had time off from work. He didn’t want to get rid of the hornet’s next during the day. He hadn’t looked at the hornet’s nest until the weekend arrived, and it had already more than doubled in side. The beehive was huge, and the air was almost black with the bees that were swarming around. He was afraid to get close to it, because of his allergies to bees. We talked about getting a professional exterminator in to get rid of the beehive, but he was sure he could take care of it himself. He bundled up in this leather coat and pants and wore his gloves that are part of his motorcycle riding outfit. He had his face shield down on his helmet, and he went outside. He was less than ten feet from the beehive when one bee buzzed his face shield. It seemed to look for a way inside. He ran into the house and grabbed his cell phone. He told me to find someone who could take care of the bees and remove the beehive. He was afraid he was going to get stung. I was glad he called a professional. I knew what reactions he had when he got stung by bees. I wasn’t prepared to spend time in the hospital, waiting to see if he was going to survive the bee sting.