To bee or not to bee
Yesterday afternoon, Lady Bracknell was sitting quietly, minding her own business, when she heard a scratching, rustling noise from the corner of the room. There was no immediately apparent cause of the noise, so Lady Bracknell contented herself with the assumption that one of her feline companions must be playing with something under the sideboard. As Lady Bracknell can not bend sufficiently to see what is under the sideboard, she could not be sure whether she was correct in her assumption.
After a while, it occurred to Lady Bracknell that any cats found elsewhere in Bracknell Towers could be reasonably excluded from her list of suspects. Which is why she was somewhat disconcerted to find both cats slumbering peacefully in their respective beds.
The scratching, rustling noise continued.
At Lady Bracknell's best guess, the noise was emanating from a sturdy Paperchase carrier bag containing part of her vast collection of half-packets of Christmas cards (packets which she never dares to use up for fear of mightily offending a loved one by sending him or her the same card two years running.)
Peering into the carrier bag from a safe distance did not reveal the perpetrator.
The scratching, rustling noise continued.
Although it did not sound like the sort of noise a spider would make, the thought occurred to Lady Bracknell that, if the noise were made by a spider, it would have to be a very large spider indeed to be making that much noise.
Time passed.
Caspar and Bertie, once they had woken up, took turns in sitting to attention near the bag and giving it Hard Stares. (This came as something of a relief to Lady Bracknell, who was beginning to be concerned that she might be experiencing an auditory hallucination.)
The scratching, rustling noise continued through the night and on into the morning.
Suddenly, with no warning, the noise ceased and a small, bedraggled bee was espied flying in an exhausted manner around the room.
Lady Bracknell's readers will no doubt be gladdened to learn that she saved the bee from Bertie's playful paws by opening the window and gently encouraging it to fly out. It is to be hoped that said bee has now recovered from its unpleasant ordeal, and is busily going about its bee business.
After a while, it occurred to Lady Bracknell that any cats found elsewhere in Bracknell Towers could be reasonably excluded from her list of suspects. Which is why she was somewhat disconcerted to find both cats slumbering peacefully in their respective beds.
The scratching, rustling noise continued.
At Lady Bracknell's best guess, the noise was emanating from a sturdy Paperchase carrier bag containing part of her vast collection of half-packets of Christmas cards (packets which she never dares to use up for fear of mightily offending a loved one by sending him or her the same card two years running.)
Peering into the carrier bag from a safe distance did not reveal the perpetrator.
The scratching, rustling noise continued.
Although it did not sound like the sort of noise a spider would make, the thought occurred to Lady Bracknell that, if the noise were made by a spider, it would have to be a very large spider indeed to be making that much noise.
Time passed.
Caspar and Bertie, once they had woken up, took turns in sitting to attention near the bag and giving it Hard Stares. (This came as something of a relief to Lady Bracknell, who was beginning to be concerned that she might be experiencing an auditory hallucination.)
The scratching, rustling noise continued through the night and on into the morning.
Suddenly, with no warning, the noise ceased and a small, bedraggled bee was espied flying in an exhausted manner around the room.
Lady Bracknell's readers will no doubt be gladdened to learn that she saved the bee from Bertie's playful paws by opening the window and gently encouraging it to fly out. It is to be hoped that said bee has now recovered from its unpleasant ordeal, and is busily going about its bee business.
posted by
Lady Bracknell | Thursday, May 03, 2007
6 Comments:
There have been several news magazine stories in the USA about vanishing bees and the implication for global warming and the end of the world. So it is heartening to know that those very bees have been holed up in Lady Bracknell's hidey places and can once again be sent out to save the world.
Bracknell Towers is, indeed, surrounded by busy little bees. As it was last summer.
Most exit quite quickly should they enter by mistake through an open window. How this particular bee managed to immerse itself in a carrier bag is beyond Lady Bracknell.
You do make me chuckle :-)
I love bees, especially the big fat but somewhat beleaguered bumblebee.
I agree with the queen_mum that the survival of the bee is crucial for mankind.
In fact, a little research has revealed that without our bumblebee we will no longer enjoy summer favourites such as strawberries, cucumber sandwiches or, wait for it, honey.
In fact according to Einstein, without bees man would have only four years left on earth, so important is pollination to our survival.
My sources are somewhat dubious. But it sounds terribly dramatic. Creates quite a buzz, don't you think? Groan.
Is her Ladyship aware of Neil Gaiman's adventures in beekeeping? It's encouraging stuff all those concerned about the bees. He notes that the bee population problem here in the US has been ongoing for the last 15 years or so (I recall reading about it myself quite some years ago, come to think of it), but it's only this year that the media's jumped on the issue. Which is interesting, and puts things in perspective a bit; I'm glad to know that there are already people out there who have been Working on Bees for some time.
Mind you, I'm terrified of the things. But that's due to some nasty experiences with stroppy wasps, and no fault of bees per se.
An excellent BADD post, by the way, which I am late to remark upon. I've been learning much thanks to the Goldfish's (and many many others) efforts this week. Hear hear!
So! Me and bees DO have something in common.
Despite their manifold documented abilities and character traits such as:-
* dancing;
* precise communication;
* accurate navigation;
* intra-species sociability;
* caring about the queen;
* producing something useful;
* being essential to the continued existence of humanity; and
* waggling their bottoms
(none of which begin to feature in my personal list of skills and competencies), we apparently share a common inability to fight our way out of a paper bag!
Bees are cool!
Persons who leave comments deploring the modern decline in the standard of written English might be well-advised not to begin a sentence with the words, "Me and bees..."
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