My Dad Has Bees. Today, I Went To His House And He Showed Me All The Honey He Had Gotten From The Hives.

My dad has bees. Today, I went to his house and he showed me all the honey he had gotten from the hives. He took the lid off a 5-gallon bucket full of honey and on top of the honey there were 3 little bees, struggling. They were covered in sticky honey and drowning. I asked him if we could help them and he said he was sure they wouldn't survive. Casualties of honey collection I suppose.

I asked him again if we could at least get them out and kill them quickly, after all he was the one who taught me to put a suffering animal (or bug) out of its misery. He finally conceded and scooped the bees out of the bucket. He put them in an empty Chobani yogurt container and put the plastic container outside.

Because he had disrupted the hive with the earlier honey collection, there were bees flying all over outside.

We put the 3 little bees in the container on a bench and left them to their fate. My dad called me out a little while later to show me what was happening. These three little bees were surrounded by all their sisters (all of the bees are females) and they were cleaning the sticky nearly dead bees, helping them to get all of the honey off of their bodies. We came back a short time later and there was only one little bee left in the container. She was still being tended to by her sisters.

When it was time for me to leave, we checked one last time and all three of the bees had been cleaned off enough to fly away and the container was empty.

Those three little bees lived because they were surrounded by family and friends who would not give up on them, family and friends who refused to let them drown in their own stickiness and resolved to help until the last little bee could be set free.

Bee Sisters. Bee Peers. Bee Teammates.

We could all learn a thing or two from these bees.

Bee kind always.

Destroy the myth that libraries are no longer relevant. If you use your library, please reblog.

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ihavethoughtsomtimes

2 years ago

A Melancholy Ache

This small corner of the world

Giving me a chance to step into an another

That's all I've ever wanted

And yet this melancholy ache I feel

All these friends have moved on

And I'm still behind trying to reach the cliff

Will the cliff be my flight or fall?

The questions keep me awake and fragile

And the expectations pull me into a slumber

Didn't see it coming, loved where it was going

Those doors I never had the key for were unlocked

How do I close them back now that you took away the key when you left?

I am a rock in most weathers, for me and everyone else

But there comes once in a season shift and I fall apart albeit for a moment

In that vulnerability lies what I wish to conquer

A chance to step into another world, for better or for worse

I want to find out

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ihavethoughtsomtimes

1 year ago

you've got no reason to be afraid.

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ihavethoughtsomtimes

2 years ago

This is a story I've been trying to tell for a long time and every time I try, I find I don't yet have the words for what has happened inside me, because nothing has happened inside me, except that a door long locked has been opened.

The short version of the story is that 14 months ago, I rewatched Good Omens, and then watched it again another six times, and then read a lot of fanfiction, and then wrote a lot of meta. The short version is that six months ago, I watched Heartstopper, and then watched it another 24 times (I kept count), and then, after all that, I was bisexual.

The short version of the story is that for a long time, I believed so deeply that it wasn't meant for me, that it never occurred to me. Until stories asked, but what if it was allowed?

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