So...on Valentine's Day, on the way to lunch, this darling bee decided to land on the windshield. It looks like he's just in the air, but no. We were at a light and I started kvetching that once we started going he might be hurt. We weighed the alternatives, as I snapped pictures of his little gold and black striped self. Since we were headed to the 163, he might get blown off into traffic. Not good. Or should we turn on the wipers to get him off in the neighborhood area? I didn't like that one either, at all. Then, as if he had heard us, *poof* he was gone! Yay! Bee crisis averted. I really have to work at not getting all nutty over the tiniest thing being hurt. It taxes one's energy. And it's totally out of my control, ya know? I don't speak Bee, and as a friend of mine's Dad says, "you can't suckle the whole world." Ah, but I think I try sometimes, at least through the investment of mental anguish.
Next, you will see a bed bump - an almost daily occurrence here at the homestead. It's Katie under the covers. Such a sweet little lumpling. She crawls up from the side, under both the sheet and comforter cover. I think she gets under for the warmth, but also the dark. The shades in the bedroom don't really keep light out, so it's bright enough to send your circadian rhythms diving under the nearest blankie.