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| How embarrassing/Please, no photographs, until/ I have my face on. |
That being acknowledged, posting photos of what I see around me every day of my life, somehow makes me feel that I am doing something-albeit minuscule-to at least boost morale. Posting pics of sunflowers does not help ease our region’s fire issues, but it does no harm, either.
Attaching a caption, frequently in a weak attempt at humor, also hurts no one, especially if it makes one person smile-even if just for a second. I recognize that my humor is out there, but I own that realm, so what the-? As I told my friend Richard yesterday, I say what I want because I’m past the point where I give a flying *%#& what others think.
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| United Auto, Story Road |
Richard was up from SoCal, but when we were working together at United Auto Stores, in the late 70’s/early 80’s, we were both living in the greater San Jose area. He had come up to Mendo a few times after Gluten-Free Mama and I made the big move up here to the mountain, but the last time I had clapped eyes on him was when we were still living in a 16-by-20 cabin, so it had to have been prior to mid-1985.
Having reconnected in the recent past on social media, Richard had asked a month back if he might not venture up here again for a short visit, since he was already going to be in Petaluma. I told him that everyone on-farm would love to have him visit and check us out. He was, after all, coming up on market day for us down in town.
So in prattling on to Richard about my attitude, I explained that it’s not even that I don’t care what people think-I do care. I just don’t let their thought process interfere with my forward progress. I remember my mom intoning, “What do you care what the other kids think?” and me responding INSIDE MY HEAD, the equivalent of “Whatever…”
Now I thoroughly understand that which she was trying to impart.
I like to use photographs combined with humor, that attempt to emulate Gary Larson and his “Far Side” approach to making folks smile. If you find it inane, scroll on, friend, scroll on. I’ll never know and I’ll never care. But if by some chance you do see where I’m going, and you’re willing to go along for the ride, then that’ll do you no harm either.
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| Oh Gawd, Joey, get/Your cotton-pickin' pollen/ Sacks out of my face! |
I take a lot of bee pics too, not a difficult proposition since I am immersed in bees much of my life. They have a single purpose in life and have minimal interest in the old guy flapping a camera in their collective space. I was once told by a visiting colleague that bees have an innate ability to sense and grasp a human’s emotional makeup, and that they respond accordingly.
We used to have a hive in an oak tree suspended right over the steps leading up to our front door, and the incessant buzzing around of the bees had me uptight. This colleague, who taught science at the middle school, asked if I could get him a ladder so that he could get a closer look.
When he came back down the ladder, Brian informed me that our bees were Italian bees, and quite docile. “They can sense your mood,” he went on. “If you’re nervous, they’ll know it; if you are mellow, they’ll sense that too. It’s up to you.”
From then on, I was completely at ease with the bees, there and wherever I ended up, including in the middle of the tomatoes, where there are sunflowers. I have snaps of countless different bee-like flying insects, and I never tire of exploring a world of dazzling colors and sci-fi images.
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| Wheeeeeeeee! |
Again, the bees do nothing but please, and what is the harm in that? I can’t stop the wild fires and I wonder just how many bees have perished in the flames. Even if individual bees escaped the conflagration, their queens would not have.
So I post pics of the bees in remembrance of those bees who did not survive the fires. It’s the least I can do. And if I attach a comical caption, don’t hold it against me, no matter how lame it is. Please. Smiles are better than tears.
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