The Secret Life of Bees

. . . is one of my all-time favorite books.

I. Love. It.

But I prefer to read about bees, not own and raise them.

Oh well, so much for my preference.

As of two weeks ago, we now own and raise bees.

Which has been John's dream for a very long time.  And, as everyone knows, nothing comes between a man and his insect-nurturing ambitions.

Apparently, a cat, a dog, and 6 chickens were not enough.

At least bees are easier than the ear-biting/furniture-chewing/pooping-all-over-my-grass canine.

Easier.....until a swarm of these striped, flying arthropods decides to attack.

*Sigh*

Until then, bring on the fresh honey! {There's got to be a bright side to all the madness, right?}

Why I didn't want a dog: Reason #568

Because they bite.   

They bite ears.  

They bite the ears of little 6-year-old boys.  And they bite them so hard that it requires a trip to the emergency room and 10 stitches to put the ear back together again.

 

Mom telling him that he has to have stitches.

Okay, ya, that's owie.

Ah, Phineas and Ferb to distract him....why didn't we think of that sooner?!

Now that's a little more calm.  Thank heavens for anesthetic, The Disney Channel, and a really great doctor.

How many nurses out there would go out to the vending machine and buy her patient not only one package of Reese's PB cups, but TWO?!  Well, I know of at least one nurse who did.


The finished product.  And surely a scar to last the rest of his life.  Dangit.





I didn't want a dog.

I really didn't.

Oh, and I almost forgot.  It was Raegan and Haylie's birthday the same day.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my twins - born 4 years apart. :)
(At least their braces are kind of twin-ish.)
Raegan - 20, Haylie -16

Sorry, girls, that your special day had to take a back-seat to the dog/ear trauma.  Sheesh.