by Julie Cadwallader Staub
Who could need more proof than honey—
How the bees with such skill and purpose
enter flower after flower
sing their way home
to create and cap the new honey
just to get through the flowerless winter.
And how the bear with intention and cunning
raids the hive
shovels pawful after pawful into his happy mouth
bats away indignant bees
stumbles off in a stupor of satiation and stickiness.
And how we humans can't resist its viscosity
its taste of clover and wind
its metaphorical power:
don't we yearn for a land of milk and honey?
don't we call our loved ones "honey?"
all because bees just do, over and over again, what they were made to do.
Oh, who could need more proof than honey
to know that our world
was meant to be
was meant to be
A foggy morning in CinCity. Temperatures yesterday warmed into the 40's and any memories of The Snowstorm That Stopped a City are tucked in small white mounds under the pine trees in back of our house. They'll melt away today.
HoneyHaired Grrrl had her wisdom teeth taken out yesterday. She's still sleeping it off on the couch in the living room, the dog and one cat at her side. Plenty of ice cream in the freezer, smoothies and pasta in the fridge, but of course, all she can think about now is Real Food. Too bad, so sad. Soft food it is.
We went to a meeting at her high school last Tuesday for college admission info. The cratering economy has changed the rules of that game. Less money available and less spots to what had been easybreezy admissions to public colleges. The air in the classroom was thick with tension--like musical chairs down to the last three seats. Had I known I would have taken a little Pepcid beforehand.
And a bottle of Pepto Bismol.
HoneyHaired has been talking about taking a Gap Year and I've listened to her with the same serious attention as when she said she was going to school in California and would be taking a Greyhound bus back and forth for her winter and spring breaks.
But, Hubby has long been a supporter of taking a year off, and now I'm starting to see some merits in the idea. To be further investigated...
CollegeGrrrl had her first motor vehicle collision, also on Tuesday. Nobody hurt, except her car, which needs a facelift. Might be the perfect accident to make her realize there are bad drivers on the road who make unexpected manuevers and she should slowthehelldown and notfollowsodamnclose. But, what do I know??, I'monlyhermother.
The unit's been full to the brim with a waiting list for available beds. Lots of falls these last two weeks, and none snow related. It seems that when you get older, you fall down a lot. That doesn't bode well at home with a dog who sneaks up behind me while I'm at the sink or putting away clothes. I would say he's underfoot, but the boy comes up to my knees. He may have put out a life insurance policy on me.
Whatever happened to the promises in our youth of modern architecture? There was no place to fall in Jane Jetson's home.