First thing, yesterday morning, I snapped three photos of a honey of a cat:
Then, on my walk to a honey of a job, I captured a honey of a Fenway Park mascot:
At work, as busy as a bee, I met with people — in individual and group therapy — trying to change unhelpful thought and behavior patterns (which can be sticky, like honey).
During my walk away from work — through a warm and humid afternoon — I heard a honey of a song:
“Slow like Honey” by Fiona Apple
… also here in a live version
… which was a sweet match for the heavy mood outside, where people moved slow, like honey.
Later in the day, I discovered this honey of a poem that Maria F. — a complete honey of a WordPresser — had written about me in the comments section of yesterday’s post:
“Your beautiful images of your whereabouts
Chime with details that make the difference.
Show us your journey
Your Heart’s desire
Filling our glasses with psychic elixir
To enjoy a ride
In this cyber cafe
of life-long choices
To accompany you outdoors-
and indoor’s, and meet sublime
Memorabilia of stunning voyage
Return to life just tonight…
and remind me of glittering lives
Yes, of bursting, yellow, honey beehives.
I couldn’t copy that amazingly sweet, wonderfully beautiful honey of a poem perfectly just now, with my iPhone keyboard.
Because of the work I am doing with a honey of an EMDR therapist — where I am letting go of my own sticky-like-honey, unhelpful thought patterns — I know that sweet Maria F. will forgive those imperfections.
Here are more Heart’s-desire photos I captured, during my day:
Most of those photos were taken at the honey of a home of my honey of a classmate, Darlene. Several of us gathered outside, yesterday evening, planning a 45th high school reunion — protected from mosquitoes, ants, and other non-honey-producing insects by some fresh basil on the table (not pictured, my honeys).
Our honey of a class president, Peter, was there at the reunion-planning meeting, visiting from the land of Michigan — 877 miles away, as the honeybee flies.
Here’s some honey-tinged memorabilia — a 1967 photo of the officers of our 9th grade class:
I’m hoping that my honey of a friend, Lawry Siskind, who lives in the Bay Area of San Francisco (3000 miles away, as the sweet honeybee flies) can attend our high school reunion in September.
Okay! Are you going to leave a honey of a comment about this post? Bee yourself, please!
Sweet thanks to Maria F., Fiona A., George S., Lawry S., Darlene B., Peter M., all the other reunion planners from last night (including Peter B., Butch B., Tom O., Karen E., Maria C., Janice P., and Sandy T.), cats and dogs (with or without last-name initials), and special, honeydew thanks to you — of course! — for buzzing by here, today.