Bee swarm in the bedroom.

Last Wednesday I woke up to the buzz of a honeybee.

It was obviously agitated. I understood; I was agitated, too. I'm highly allergic to the fuzzy little things, and not happy to have it in bed with me.

My first instinct, which I followed, was to run screaming from the bedroom. Standing on the other side of the slammed door, I realized Lawrence wouldn't be home from work for hours. I needed to deal with this myself.

So, I gathered up my courage (which I'd thrown willy-nilly in my mad dash from the bedroom), slowly opened the door and snuck* back in.

The bee buzzed against the window glass. It terrified me, but I was determined to let it live. After all, bees are not wasps or hornets. They serve a purpose, are on the decline, and sole makers of wonderful sweet gooey goodness. So, I bravely reached past it, opened the window, and coaxed it out.

Man did I feel good about myself. I'd saved the life of a cute little brown bee. I'd conquered my fear. Go me!

In spite of my joy, I closed the window again, just in case it decided to return.

Adrenaline still tickling my heart, I went into the office to call my husband. He was proud of me. I rocked. I no sooner hung up—when I heard a sound I didn't like.

Buzzzz.

Another bee in the house.

Now I freaked.

All the windows in the house were closed. One stray bee I could understand, but two? That couldn't be good. I tore downstairs, tossed stuff out from under the sink, and scrounged for wasp spray. Yes, I know bees are good, but if I get stung I have to go to the hospital. My sympathy meter had dropped from happy, ecologically-friendly green to Danger-Danger-Will-Robinson orange.

I took the spray into the office, pointed at the bee, told it I was sorry, and sprayed. It fell, made a few small sounds, and then went silent.

I felt bad.

Until I heard the buzzzzzzzz.

Stonehenge and Summer Solstice

Summer Solstice
Summer Solstice (June in the Northern Hemisphere – occurs in December in the Southern Hemisphere) is traditionally, the longest day of the year – or the day with the longest period of daylight, since technically it still has the same amount of hours and minutes and isn't really any longer than any other day. (FYI: Solstice is a Latin word meaning the "sun stands still.")

Southern England
For us here in Southern England, it also means the time when the pagans and druids come en masse to watch the sunrise at Stonehenge. So many people attend that English Heritage, the organization that watches over and maintains Stonehenge, has to close normal tourist admission to the site.

This Morning
This morning, June 21, 2011 there were 18,000 people attending. Here are some links to the Facebook page of English Heritage with a picture of this morning's ritual:

Crowds at Stonehenge
Druids at Sunrise Ceremony

Why the British L.O.V.E. their kettles.

Even though we don't drink coffee or tea, we still own a kettle.

When I first moved to England, I didn't understand this philosophy. Why would we need a kettle? The most we do is make cup-a-soup. In America, if I wanted hot soup I would put water and soup mix in a big mug, and put it in the microwave. Job done.


But my husband insisted we would need a good quality kettle.

So, we got a kettle, an electric one. We use it for making soup. I even started boiling the water for pasta before putting it in the pot on the stove to hurry up the cooking time.

It wasn't until this week, though, that I finally understood the true importance of owning a kettle.

We had some builders in to add two new radiators to our heating system. Many people in England have a boiler for heat. The hot water circulates throughout the house in copper pipes into radiators. In our house, it is a noisy system, but it warms the place on a cold day.

The boiler also heats the water for the shower, and kitchen and bathroom sinks. So if you have a problem with your boiler, life can become . . . difficult.

Our troubles began when the TIMER stopped working on the boiler.

Day 1:

Builder (A) tries to replace TIMER on boiler. Wire (a) is cut. Circuit board (a) is fried. No hot water.

Day 2:

Builder (B) replaces circuit board (a). Replaces TIMER. Cuts wire (b). Doesn't have the right part to replace wire (a). No hot water.

Day 3:

Builder (A) replaces wire (b). Still no wire (a). No hot water.

Day: 4:

Builder (C) replaces wire (a). Cuts wire (c) Circuit board (b) is fried. Replaces circuit board (b). Replaces wire (c). Hot water restored!

TIMER stops working.

No joke. After four days of heating water for the bath and dishes IN A KETTLE, the TIMER is still not working. I'm afraid to call them back!!

The moral to the story: If you own a boiler, you'll need a kettle.


Cheers!
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