YO! Where My Honey Bees At?

Funny story...

(btw, right now I SHOULD BE doing laundry)

About a month ago, I was doing some shopping for a trip and being that I have a thing for pj's, I was in the pj aisle. Another lady and I were looking at the same pair of pj's which just happened to have honey bees and all-things-honey-bee on them. They were cute, girl!

So, we get to talking because we were both slightly uncomfortable at the fact that another adult knew we were interested in these bright, predominately yellow and black pj's for ADULTS. We each explained to each other why we appreciated this particular theme of pajamas so.

My explanation we won't get into but hers was valid -her hubby was a bee-keeper. One thing led to another in this interesting conversation, in the middle of the day, at Target. I proceeded to ask her if her hubby happened to sell bee pollen (our family eats bee pollen when allergies start to bother us - it works even though it seems weird). None of the health food stores in the area were able to tell us why they couldn't find any to buy this year (you have to buy new each year b/c each year, apparently, your allergies are slightly different; you also have to buy LOCAL bee pollen since your allergies are local).

So, she told me that no, her hubby did not sell bee pollen, at least THIS YEAR. She continued to inform me that all the bee farmers in the area were losing their honey bees. She said it's an epidemic and nobody can figure out why they are dying off and that the honey bee industry is in trouble. My first thought was not, "poor honey bees; what can I do?" I admit it was, "Shoot, I'd better go stockup on honey before the price goes sky-high!"

So, summer got busy, I forgot to go buy honey until today when, somehow, I got to this link: http://www.helpthehoneybees.com/ (click on the "featured video")

Who knew that honey bees could dance, let alone krunk

A N D do the disco (seriously, they DO dance, a 'bee' dance, when they find nectar).

So, this is my contribution to the plight of the honey bee. PLANT, PLANT, PLANT some wildflower gardens along your fencelines, people! and pass this info along. Oh yeah, and go rent The Bee Movie, it'll tell you much you didn't know about bees.

Did I buy the pj's? Nobody cares about my choice in pj's! Go help the honeybees. =)

I'm Alive

I'm here. I'm busy.

Thanks for caring.

I see that nobody's even asked about me in weeks.

Fine.

Hello?

So, what have you been up to this summer?

Here's a sampling of our summer so far but much, much more to come.

Hope you enjoy; you just never know with family videos.

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Meet Sally Pecan (or Sally Beanpod or Sally Chipmunk - whatever her menu choice is at the time), she was Number Two's birthday present way back in February and a GREAT Humane Society find. She's definitely a lady, as evidenced in her debut video. She likes to spend her days reclining by the pool, chasing chipmunks and digging gargantuan holes and directing traffic..

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This next one is for my sister who tried to threaten me into not posting it on my Blog. There is a small shot of her derriere, which I just noticed, *oops*, how did that HAPPEN? Well, now I have to post it. That's Sibling Rivalry 101, right? Ignoring that sacred code could send the Earth catapulting through the Milky Way toward the Black Hole.

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Next, a spring video that teaches a lesson about life: It's not always about what you see, sometimes, it's about what you hear. Or, you should always watch what you're saying because you never know who is listening in.

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Funny Coincidence

So, there's this funny thing the other day...

I started working end of last year for a merchandising company. Basically, this is how it works:

1. A company...let's say Hunter-Douglas...needs to change out the pricing on their window blinds at Home Depot.

2. They contract their merchandising jobs with the company I work for, who calls me and asks if I want the job - I have 30 days to complete it. It takes about an hour and I make my normal wage.

3. I accept or decline depending on my schedule.

4. If I accept, I go online, print off the job instructions and the company sends me all the new POP materials through FedEx or UPS.

5. On the day I decide to do said job, I go switch everything out - it takes close to an hour.

6. I then email a report that consists of about five questions, back to the company I work for.

7. They send me a check about two weeks later.

Easy-peasy.

Here's the funny part - the company I work for is called Quest Merchandising. A few nights back, G and I were up late watching TV and one of those commercials come on for lonely guys that want a friend to "talk to". I've seen the commercials a hundred times but all of a sudden it struck me - the name of the company is called Quest Personals; OMgosh, I tell G - that's so funny. Wonder if someone we know thinks that, that's the Quest I work for...I've told people that the company I work for just calls, explains the parameters of the job, I then decide if I want to work or not and the job usually takes less than an hour. Funny, huh?

A subsidiary of the company I work for, you ask? I did! Who knows.

Hey-Ay

Wow. It's been a while.

I'm still here. Too busy to be dead - definitely too busy.

I stopped for just a minute today to catch up on emails and a shameless plug for two of my fav artists right now. I like all genres of music because I believe everyone has something significant to say and add to my life; otherwise, why would God have them cross my path? Who knows what you miss out on in life if you get offended by an action or opinion or belief and then shut people out? Artists are each unique and I wish I could be one. Even just for a day. I'd LOVE to travel on the road with a favorite musician.

So, these artists just happen to be Christian artists - the kind of Christian artist I would be if I could sing even a note like these people.

If only there would have been musicians out there like these when I was in high school, my high school life would have been totally different...I like to think that, at least. Maybe it would have been free and fun and fostered an authentic relationship with my Savior. So much time was wasted before setting out to find that.

Anyway... So now, I shamelessly live and promote the music I love. I embarrrass #1, because she's 14 and because I would be embarrassed if I could see myself, I'm sure. God chose ME to give life to so I'll embrace it and love it and live it alive...even when it hurts and life hurts alot. I'll pass life on to those around me until the day mine ends and hopefully, I can pass it on more alive than it was passed to me.

God didn't give us but one gift. Everyone always gets stuck on that one BIG ONE - you know the one, the ticket out of hell. Life, love and free will is a gift; children are a gift; sushine a gift; mosh pits in chapel - yes! a gift (and I love to go to chapel and see the kids enjoy it) creme' brulee is definitely a gift and being able to pass on to the next generation a vibrant, authentic love of the Father is a gift too often squandered.

I love to dance and to be free and to be me. I've just uncovered the joy of free will and living a life-alive in the last several years. So, not being one to live in the past, I live now without concern as to what anyone might think and it's VERY empowering. When you live free in Christ, people get confused and they fear and sometimes you can open their eyes and change their life. Weird, huh, because that too, is a gift - being His hands. With that said, I'll be getting a stud in my nose soon. Just a little F.Y.I.

This blog is often random but so is life...and life is not waiting on me so I must go. Now,
shameless plug #1 and shameless plug #2.

New Year, New Monsters

Just when you think you have your kids figured out, they turn into full-raging hormone zombies. So you learn to deal. No biggie.

Then one day, you're shopping at Walmart and you see your twelve-year-old, male zombie turn his face and there grows a long, stray hair. You panic - How did I not see that before now? What kind of MOTHER am I? What's happening? Where did IT come from?!? Gross! OMGosh. Where am I? What's my name? What do I do - buy a razor right now or do I wait? Does one, long hair constitute that expense? Do I tell him? Does he already know? Eww. Who is this creature? I wanted to scream, "SOMEONE PLEASE PINCH ME; I'M HAVING A TERRIBLE NIGHTMARE!!" I had a fleeting thought of jumping the Pharmacy counter, shoving the pharmacist, security guard and whoever else got in my way, to the ground and then downing a bottle of Prozac like a raving lunatic.

I was spinning in that Twilight Zone vortex, in the middle of Walmart, having all of those thoughts. Can you imagine? But then...

I had that Aha! moment (you know what I'm talking about) - I'll just pluck it out with my tweezers while he's sleeping and he'll be none the worse for not knowing, right? So, you tell your husband the plan and instead of conspiring with you like you know he should, he tells you you're crazy and proceeds with a puffed-up chest and pride-filled, father-face to reminisce about the day he started shaving. You start reminiscing about smothering him with the pillow while he's sleeping (before you pluck the stray hair off your son's face, of course, because he might wake up and you don't want any witnesses.)

You go buy some Calgon.

It doesn't take you away.

At least you can somewhat understand your fourteen-year-old female zombie...

Three days a week.

So, you're driving home with said female zombie last night after her ballgame. They won and yet she looks really down so you start simple...

So, you won!....we played terrible

Yeah, I noticed your head was somewhere else - you okay?...head nods

Have a headache?...head shakes

Hungry?...more shaking

Tired?...still more shaking

Wanna' talk about it?

*sniffling, eyes blinking holding back tears*

Everything okay with you and Billybob*?

No. We broke up. *sniffling, quiet sobbing*

Of course now I start sniffling and blinking back tears, driving with blurred vision.

We talk little the rest of the way home and I respect her space. In time, I suppose... or they could get back together tomorrow. We get home and she showered, ate, read a book, did homework, watched TV; all the normal things but now with a somber look on her face. It's killing me. I look at her and like those commercials, see her three years old with strawberry-blonde pigtails and freckles, sad about a stuffed toy that the dog tore up. Ah.

Of course, I'm still wanting the details; to know what happened.

So, G comes home, we converse quietly in the kitchen and he goes in and tucks her into bed (which she normally doesn't request anymore) and they talk! Booger!

He decides that pulling her out of a class today and going for ice cream might help the sting fade faster. He always gets all the fun *sticking out tongue*. Maybe I should teach our male zombie how to shave. Ha!

I live with a house full of monsters...and I love it.

So, what's up with you? Dish.

*name changed to protect the little punk. :0)

GO SEE THIS ONE!

And take a tissue.