Yesterday was a gardening day. The monstrous, decrepit yucca was threatening people at the front door, and the vine with lovely pink flowers that won't actually climb by itself was becoming a woody firetrap. I spent a good 90 minutes hacking and chopping and stuffing the recycle bin full. As I walked around to see where more surgery would be required, a steady droning crept into my ears. The creosote bush in the front yard, the one that we brought home in a 3-gallon container in the trunk of the car 6 years ago which is now the size of a classic Volkswagen beetle, was buzzing insistently.
The bush is covered with tiny yellow flowers and tiny fuzzy catkins and lots of different bees! Generic, busy worker bees, nearly microscopic bee-like critters with slender bodies wrapped in tidy black and white stripes, and my favorite, a fuzzy-wuzzy with almost no-visible hind-end and a proboscis that strongly resembles a butterfly's tongue. This last bobs about as though it's a marionette, but you can't quite see the fishing line that must be jerking it around like a yo-yo. I absolutely could not get a shot of that one. Very shy, she is.
These ladies were completely absorbed in the task at hand. I dearly wished to get a shot of their bright orange pantalettes, but they foiled me. "No, thank you", they seemed to be saying, "we are not hoity-toity fashion models here to display the hottest modes de Paris. We have a queen to feed and chambers to build and larvae to cool. Don't get in the way." I tried not to, but I did capture a couple of candid shots.
Here are some of the backyard girls, hard at work on the neighbor's orange tree:
And here is another Soulemama/Lemonylemonade chapeau made with Lion Brand. It's a bit larger than I'd intended, so it'll go off to Dulaan with the previously-made clouds. (Dog mask courtesy of my husband, the former Cleveland Browns fan. Thanks sweetie.)