Busy as a . . .

The other day I noticed several bumblebees on the few remaining cosmos flowers because, unlike most bees I've seen, these bees were not flitting from flower to flower. They were curled up on the flowers and very still. They appeared to be . . . sleeping.



I'd never seen sleeping bees before, so I did a little research.

Bees do sleep.



Isn't it funny to think that the very creatures humans say they are "as busy as" take time to rest?



Maybe we could learn one more lesson from our busy bee friends and be as intentional about taking time for renewal and refreshment as we are about reaching goals.

The next time you're buzzing around thinking about how busy you are, perhaps you'll remember the bumblebees and take a moment or two to slow down for a bit. I think you'll be glad you did.

A colorful walk on Thanksgiving Day

QB and I went for a walk this morning and saw bits of color along the way:










Happy Thanksgiving from QB and the rest of us.

Thoughts of Spring

Spring is definitely here.

Tomatoes are planted . . .



butterflies are in the yard . . .



and Bentley is adamant that it is time to go outside - NOW!



I hate to deprive him of time outside, but he's been sick lately - so sick that he had to stay at the vet's. He can see the yard from our front window and the screened porch, but it just isn't the same.

Today I picked up a couple of catnip plants and I'll replenish the containers of wheat grass so there'll be a little more green stuff inside. It's not "outside", but it will have to do.

In the midst of Bentley's illness, Luigi got sick, too. Luigi didn't make it. Now he and Muffin and Gordon are gone. It's one of the disadvantages when litters are adopted - everyone is old at the same time.
(Luigi is gray, Muffin is the tabby and Gordon is the "blonde".)



A walking iris was blooming the day we brought Luigi home.



Now I think of him and the other cats who are no longer with us whenever I see one.

Easter flowers

A few of the flowers I found in our yard on Easter Day . . .