I'm trying to develop an aesthetic approach to watching bees. We have these lovely allium (alliums?), now in full spherical bloom, around which bees hover like helicopters harassing a giant purple geodesic dome. But the voice in my head insists: I know it's gonna hurt me, I know it's gonna hurt me, I know it's gonna hurt me.
A lesson I keep re-learning: the body has limits. (Problem is, those limits keep changing on me.) The night Themes shipped I was up until dawn. The next day, yesterday, I was in a fog all day. This reporter even took a nap, which didn't help much, or not enough. I got major sleep last night and am fresh again today, I'm happy to report.
The day begins with Madness: "So if you're coming off the street, and you're beginning to feel the heat, well listen Buster, you better start to move your feet, to the rockin'-est rock-steady beat of Madness -- One Step Beyond!"