Sorry

Okay, okay my little Buddhist conscience. I was wrong to kill the wasp. I did it entirely out of spite. It made the sting no less painful & I could have easily (ish) captured it & released it outside. And should have. I regret it and apologise unconditionally to wasps, wasp lovers, and wasp gods everywhere.

A little research reveals… “wasps have not developed methods of storing food for the winter, and this is why their colonies only last for one season in temperate regions. Each colony starts to break up in the autumn and the workers die of cold. However, before this happens new queens and males have been developed and have swarmed out of the colony to mate. The males die soon after mating, but the young fertilised females search for a sheltered spot where they can spend the winter. Such dormant queens can often be found in outhouses and lofts during the winter”.

And occasionally in Old Man Rich’s bed. So I probably killed a young queen. Wiping out with a single blow whole future generations. That’s made me feel no end of better. Still, at least the hand has returned to its normal size and stopped hurting.