The Sting

We are now in France, but I'd forgotten to post my photojournalistic essay on Serena's wasp sting at Park Guell.
While I was wandering with Emme and Marlowe, enchanted, through the mosaic wonderland, following the sound of music wafting from the pavilion below, Serena decided to stay behind and sit on a bench. Raf turned to tell her to keep up and that we'd grab dinner afterward, but it was too late. She'd already sat on the bench and, inadvertently, on a wasp.

The information guides at Park Guell were very sweet and offered to help us with a doctor, a medical kit, water, anything, but we know Serena. Okay, yes, she was stung and it hurt, but she is prone to -- how you say in English? -- dramatics.

The guides (three different ones) each told us to get some dirt, mix it with water, and make a tincture to take the sting away, so we did it and Raf and Nina waited for me and Emme and Marlowe to quickly finish up our love-fest with Park Guell.

I'm happy to report that she was better by the time we made it back to Hotel Neri. Because secretly, and I know this won't win me a "Mother of the Year" title, I was worried that it would swell up and we wouldn't make it to France.