Sunday, 17 February 2008

Bee bop a lula

I have been to help some friends celebrate their wedding.

In Cheltenham.

Well, they got married late last year in the Cook Islands (look on a and this was their "everyone who wasn't able to get there" (ie everyone) celebration.

It was lovely to see them looking fab and happy, obviously enjoying life, and partying with many friends and family.

As we were waiting for our taxi outside the venue at the end of the night, an elderly couple came walking down the steps into the car park, discussing the party.

Her: Nice evening, wasn't it?

Him: Yes. Good job I didn't have my hearing aid in...that music would have blown my head off.


Our taxi driver was entertaining. He was a cheerful Indian guy who had dropped us off at the party earlier, and seemed really pleased to see us again. He was bemoaning the fact that it was too busy.

"Busy, busy, busy...all night long, too many calls, too many jobs! I don't see my wife, my children, no dinner, no coffee. Nothing. Aiieeeee."

He really did make that noise. I asked if he'd had anything to eat that night.

"No! I am STARVING!" he exclaimed, in such a wonderfully tragic way that we were hard put not to laugh. Bless. We gave him a tip and hopefully he got time to buy some chips or something with it.

As we left the hotel this morning I overheard the head of housekeeping giving instructions to her crew: "Tell me which rooms are really dirty. Sicky and that. You know."

Eww. Luckily our room was not sicky. Not when we left, anyway. And there's me thinking Cheltenham was posh.

Other news: I am planning to get a beehive. Not an Amy Winehouse stylee one, but a real one. With bees in it. The only real concern I have is what to call them all.

I was discussing with Mr WithaY where to position the hive. I suggested on the roof of the shed, so it's nice and sunny, and not too much of a danger in the garden.

Mr W: But won't that make it hard to get to?

Me: Bees can fly, dear.

I make myself laugh.


Peter said...

Re Bees

Hmm bees eh? It's a big step.

As a teenager I attended bee meetings, where once much to my delight, an apicultural disagreement was settled in the garden with a fistfight.

My mum kept her bees in north London. One weekend she and evil stepfather were away leaving me with custody of the bees. Imagine my feelings a few hours later, glancing up from Grandstand through the front room window, only to see a whirling storm of 50,000 bees circling the house.

And did you know that the only journalist to witness the first flight by the Wright brothers was from a beekeeping magazine, Gleanings from bee culture?

livesbythewoods said...

Yep, bees. I had no idea that the apiary world inspired hot headed fights...excellent.

I look forward to acquiring a collection of bee-related duelling scars.

I am taking advice from local bee keeping experts and have yet to ask my neighbours if any of them are allergic or phobic about bees.

I hope not.

Oh, and I have to find out if bees like my smell, apparently. If they don't, I am assured that they will chase me to the ends of the earth.

badgerdaddy said...

Ask Z of Razor Blade of Life about bees - her son Al has some.

livesbythewoods said...

Badgerdaddy, top tip, thanks. Will do.

Peter said...

You can tell bees your troubles.

And talking to them works, as does singing. Grab your axe and sing something in the key of B natural and all will be fine.

livesbythewoods said...

B natural. Heh. Nice one.