Sweeter than honey flows
drop by drop,
dripping from the comb, no
bee can stop it.

* * *
I pulled off onto a side street yesterday, to park the car and flag down a Tri-Met Bus. I asked the driver's permission, then walked around the bus to pull a sheet of newspaper off of the air intake, where I had seen it flapping in the wind as I drove by.
I handed it to the driver. He said, in a Carribean accent, "You'a the sweetest girl on this whole earth, you know that?"
I said, "thank you," and carried on.
* * *

something about bees, working every sunny day away, storing up sweetness against the rain...

* * *
I ran an unbelievable number of errands that morning, but with a little sadness creeping around the edges. As I dropped him off at the community center pool, Ernie suggested, "Do something for yourself, OK?" and I said, "I'll try to think of something."
But my brain's too full of what "needs" to be done, errands to the bank and laundry and cooking, inquiries after health care and financial support, looking in on Grandma and finally removing the boxes from the bedroom. Shopping for a treat, while it would be "for me," would only add to my worries about money the next day.

I decided that getting those errands done would take them off my mind, at least, and then I can think of what to grant myself tomorrow.

After the flurry of errands and Grandma's appointment, I did manage to squeeze in a nap, at least.
* * *
something about bees, sealing their honey into little wax cases, safe from each other but not from bears.
* * *
I think I'll read a book while the laundry runs, and see how that goes.

* * *