…no, not of wisdom!
This morning’s worry.
It wasn’t really cold, but she seemed frozen.
“What do you think?” I asked Grant.
“Just leave it. If it’s her time, so be it.”
Brute. He’s so unhelpful sometimes.
It did look a bit wet. I touched it very gently with a fingernail and it moved a leg, so I knew it was alive.
So for a while I talked to it and told it that the sun would be out soon to warm it up and dry off the dew.
Later on I went to check and was glad to find the bee was all dried out and had some companions.
They really like the crassulaceae (“butterfly stone-crop” or “witch’s moneybags”)
While I was fretting about comatose bees and taking pictures of the dew, Grant found me something else to photograph:
Everywhere I looked there seemed to be tiny pearls, like the seed pearl necklace my mother gave me when I was a little girl.
One of many things I sold in a fund-raiser. How is it that I am hopelessly sentimental about some things, and dispassionate about others that should be more important?
…something I may ponder but do not plan to discuss with my new therapist. The celebrated “intake” is next week. I am not looking forward to that. Not one bit.
All my other appointments got screwed up by my other recent frolic. Why couldn’t it have been this one?
However, my cage got seriously rattled by the aforementioned fiasco, so maybe it’s a good thing. I’ll try to convince myself.
In the meantime…I found some cuddly caterpillars. Cuddly to another caterpillar, maybe. I am very wary of touching these guys, even if they do look like little lambs:
See that cute face?
It’s actually his rear end.
Unless he was backing up really fast.
Positively rushing off.
Tomorrow morning, the staples come out. I could do it myself, but one has to follow the script.
To a certain extent, anyway:)