The Not So Fantastic Reality:
The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:
ONE: Busy day today, lots of moving and shaking… well mostly moving, but whatevs. One thing we were able to check off of our to do list today was running up to a nursery to return an item and pick up some seeds to plant in the Spring (we are starting a garden in our back yard, at least that is the plan). Since we couldn’t do a straight return for the item, we were inclined to find enough merchandise to match it’s price, around $40 give or take. Well, after picking out all the seeds we wanted to plant, we were still about $15 short, so we decided to wander around in the nursery to find a plant or shrub to make up difference. After about fifteen minutes, we both were drawn to a flowering plant hanging from one of the trees. It was a little prim rose, needing a bit of TLC, but we both thought it would be perfect since it seemed to attract quite a few honey bees and butterflies. Well, as I leaned closer for a sniff of one of the flowers, a startled bee shot out of the bloom straight for my face. Now a normal person would probably wheel back and protectively cover their face from the threat of being stung. Apparently, I am not normal (is this really a shocker to anyone? If so, you have not been paying attention…). Instead of reflexively going into a defensive stance, I rear back and raise my fist, as if I am going to hit the bee. That’s right, my instinct is to try and punch a bee. Nice, right? Well, Andy and I got a good laugh out of that, and for the rest of the day we ended every sentence with, “I’m gonna punch a bee!” real tough like. So next time you’re in need of someone to take down a pesky honey bee, give me a call… I’ll punch a bee.
Love & Squirrels.