Sunday, April 11, 2010


There are some things they don't teach you in school. One such lesson was crawling about in the grass buzzing it's wings. By instinct alone one would just assume that God made all things that are yellow and black, fat and crunchy to be snapped up as snacks as happy as you like. Kirsten told me it was my prerogative if I really wanted to be messiny with a bee, but she didn't recommend it. Sometimes instinct does fail a body; the bee did not go down as I intended. After rolling my face in the grass for awhile I've come to some definate conclusions. Bees must serve some other purpose on earth besides live snack. Also, life is hard.


  1. Ouch! Sounds like a painful lesson! Thank goodness you are not allergic to those nasty yellow/black tidbits!

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  3. I totally enjoyed reading these last two posts. I enjoyed them mainly because I could see what was happening so vividly, Fern looking even more adorable in her suffering.

    That doesn't mean, though, that I enjoyed her pain...

    Hey Fern Fern! I miss you. You're the preciousest of all.

  4. My only memory of farm bees is a visit to a farm in NC. It was very frightening, mainly because they insisted I stand so far away. The farmers, not the bees. I'm sure their insistence would be even more persuasive.