Revenge of the Bees

They came back this afternoon. In the quiet of the day, as the sun was on its downward path and the simmering heat shimmered off the paving stones, they gathered. Slowly at first they arrived, one, then another and another until the air was black with fury. And then the whisper came, 'We - shall - be - revenged.'

Then one of the little buzzers stung me on the tip of my ear!

I did a very good impression of someone who has been stung by a bee. Ooh, ah, hop, jump, scream, hold ear, jump a bit more, 'do something!', oohhh, ooooo, 'it hurts', oh, oh, oh, oh, 'why did he do that?', eee, aah, ooo, ow, 'what do I do?', hop, hop, ooooohhhhh.

(For information: on being stung by a bee, having got the above procedure out of the way, remove the sting and then apply an ice pack. According to the net, none of the folk remedies, including a bicarb paste, work.)

The good news is that I did 100 lengths this afternoon!
That is very good for me but not quite as impressive as it might sound as:
a) it's a dwtty pool;
b) I had to stop every few ends to throw George's ball or have a kiss.