Worst Outdoor Adventure Ever

So all summer, inspired by the book Last Child in the Woods, I've been taking Molly and Kiera to natural areas to play. They've gotten really fond of the creek leading down from Hidden Falls, over in St. Paul; they've gone wading, caught tadpoles and minnows, climbed trees, tried to build dams, fallen in mud puddles, and in general had all sorts of positive natural experiences.

Today, we went down to a beach along the Mississippi with some friends. On our way back up from the beach, the other mom realized she'd forgotten her purse. There's a spot just off the path leading up to the River Road where the kids played last time -- it has rocks to climb on and some other stuff to explore -- so I told her I'd take the kids there while she ran back down to the beach, and they could play while we waited.

And it was a lovely place to play except for the nest of bumblebees they apparently pissed off. Kiera was the first to get stung -- once, on her cheek, right below her eye -- and then Molly's friend got stung, and then Molly. Molly's friend was stung twice, and Molly was stung three times, on her forehead, arm, and the instep of her foot. I had stepped away to check on whether the other mom was coming up the path, and heard Kiera scream piercingly; I went running back and had just determined that it was probably a bee sting when the second kid started screaming.

I had no adequate remedy to hand. I carry a first aid kit, but it lacks a squeeze-and-shake disposable cold pack. And even if I'd had one, I'd only have had one, and which kid do you give it to? The one who's screaming the loudest (Kiera), the one who's been stung three times (Molly), or the one who's already got a big visible welt on her arm (Molly's friend)? If there'd been any ice still in my water bottle, I'd have given them ice cubes to hold on the stings, but the ice had all long since melted and the water was merely cool, not cold. I poured water over their stings and then wet the towels (we always have towels to sit on) so they could hold the wet towel to the sting; I thought that would be at least somewhat soothing.

Molly calmed down and was her usual stoic self pretty quickly; her friend also calmed right down and even turned down the wet towel. Kiera sobbed the whole way home. At home, I had cold packs and ice cubes and a cool shower and even ibuprofen. If I hadn't been planning to turn around and go right out again a little while later, I'd have poured myself a stiff drink, I think.

The planned evening entertainment (bee and wasp free) was a Fringe show, The Inconvenient Squirrel. I'll put that in the next post.

(Incidentally, the identification of the stinging insect was done by Kiera -- she saw it and thought it was a bumblebee. I initially figured she had to be wrong, because no stingers were left behind, but apparently it is only honeybees that have barbed stingers. Bumblebees do not, and can sting multiple times. They're not aggressive the way hornets and yellowjackets are aggressive, but they'll sting if you're too close to their nest, and that's clearly what happened. I've been stung more times than I can remember, but never, I think, by an actual bee -- it's always been a wasp of some kind. Anyway, since I have run into crazed bee defenders who get really upset if you blame waspish aggressiveness on poor hapless flower-pollinating bees, I'll just note that Kiera can tell the difference between a wasp and a bumblebee, and she's extremely observant, even when under stress, so I think it probably really was a bee in this case.)

Fringe 1: Shakespeare vs. Zombies

So we've now seen four Fringe shows: Snip Snap Snute, Shakespeare's Land of the Dead, Mortem Capiendum, and An Inconvenient Squirrel.

(I suppose I should give that statement at least a little bit of context: the Minnesota Fringe is a big theater festival. It's unjuried, with slots given out by lottery, which means that anyone who can scrape together the $400 fee can do a show in the Fringe. The Fringe has a truly outstanding range of shows, ranging from awful to weird to BRILLIANT. It's also cheap, especially if you buy a punchcard, and it includes shows for kids as well as shows that are wildly inappropriate for kids. Molly's first live theater ever was a trip to the Fringe when she was just under three. Anyway.)

If you're local and need to pick one, and you read my blog, go see Shakespeare's Land of the Dead. Because odds are excellent that if you're enough of a geek to read my blog, you're enough of a geek to appreciate Shakespeare vs. zombies. I first heard of this play when someone from the show advertised in the Twin Cities LJ community for people to play zombies and my thought at the time was, "I must see this! It'll either be awesome, or it'll be terrible but in an entertaining way!"

It was awesome. There's one scheduled show left (this Sunday, at 7), plus I think odds are good they'll get the slot for the encore performance (this Sunday, at 8:30). If you want to go, buy your ticket now.

Snip Snap Snute was a children's play; we took the girls last weekend. It was okay. The premise involved a human girl who'd been raised by trolls, and a troll girl who'd been raised by humans. The girl who played the troll-raised-by-humans was excellent, and there was some good physical comedy by both the trolls and the human father. Plus, there was one song ("Human Beans for Supper") that was hilarious. But the main thing I took away from the show was the thought that I really like the idea of a troll child and a human child who get switched, but what I would really like to see is Eleanor Arnason's take on this premise.

Mortem Capiendum, Ed and I saw last night right after Shakespeare vs. Zombies. It was the same group that put on Bards last year. I think Bards was better, but this was pretty good. The premise is that the three actors are selling snake oil and trying to persuade the audience to buy it. It was over-the-top, warped, and very funny.

We took the girls today to An Inconvenient Squirrel. In the village of the squirrels, every squirrel has to pick a name that describes him. One squirrel refuses, and then sets off on a quest with Socially Awkward Squirrel. Kiera loved both shows so far (the reviews on the site have a rating scale of 0 to 5 kitties, and Kiera rated both 5 kitties) but Molly liked this one much better than Snip Snap Snute. Possibly because the message in this play was that it's okay to be whoever you are, and that socially awkward people can be happy and heroic, and the message in Snip Snap Snute was that if you don't fit in, maybe it's because you're actually adopted and your parents never told you and also maybe your biological family is made up of scary, stupid trolls who eat human beings. Or maybe she just didn't like the singing in Snip Snap Snute. Who knows?

Squirrel was Joseph Scrimshaw's play this year. This was the guy who last year did Macbeth's Awesome Scottish Castle Party. In the program for last year's show, Scrimshaw noted that he saw Titus Andronicus at the Globe Theater in London, and they had the actors going out into the audience and addressing audience members as if they were ancient Romans, and he thought, "You know, this is kind of like Tony and Tina's Wedding, only with more violence and racism!" And started mulling over the concept of Shakespeare as interactive theater.

Last year, I didn't want to describe MASCP because I didn't want to spoil it. That's not a concern this year, but I just tried to describe it and the sad fact is, I can't even come close to doing it justice. Suffice it to say, when Macbeth and Lady Macbeth poured ketchup and mustard on Banquo's bald head and then dipped bratwurst into it and ate it, it made perfect sense in the context of the play and was screamingly hilarious (and disgusting, but really, so funny that thinking about it still makes me laugh, a full year later.)

No ketchup on bald heads this year, alas, but the play (and the squirrel costumes) -- really excellent.