Observation #17: Getting Older



I hafta say that I’m feeling exceedingly lucky today. Not only is it Monday, my favourite day of the week, but it’s
also my Birthday! And, in case you’re wondering, I’m 42.
It seems like only yesterday that I was 41.

Ya’ know, when I think about it that way, it makes it feel like time is going by far too fast. It feels like it wasn’t that long ago that I was just learning to fly, but now, here I am, waking up every morning hoping my wings will even work. (They feel kinda stiff these days for some reason. What’s that all about?)

I also hafta say that my Antennae are definitely not as flexible as they used to bee, I can’t eat as many of Great Grandma Gee Gee’s highly nutritious Royal HoneyChew Krisp™ Cookies without feeling way Bloated and having to deal with a bunch of Digestive Issues, and when I watch my Stories on TV, everything seems Highly Blurry.

I’m pretty sure the Producers of my Stories aren’t doing as good a job of focusing their cameras as well as they used to. For example, I was watching the Season Semi-Finale, Part 3, of “Escape from Bee Island: The Curse of Roy” with my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin, last night, and not only was the picture Highly Blurry, but it seemed as if everybody on the Show were softly humming their lines. I could barely hear what anybody was saying, mostly. (Luckily, I have Subtitles on TV, but those looked blurry to me, also.)

When I asked Kevin if everything looked Highly Blurry and sounded Super Muffled to him, he said, “No. Not at all. The Image Quality of this particular model of television has yet to bee surpassed by any other unit on the market today, and the Tri-Dimensional Immersive Surround Sound is second to none. I suspect the Problem is on your end.”

Geeeeeeze. I can’t stand it when I’m blamed for Poor Production Quality, ya’ know what I mean?

Then he said, “You know, Uncle Georgie, you’re the best Uncle in the world, and I love you, but I think you need to go have your eyes checked. All five of them.”


So earlier this morning, I decided to take Kevin’s Advice and visit the Hive Physician, Ph.Bee, and ask him all about this. He looked me over, pulled on my wings, bent my Antennae, checked my Fuzz Density, and poked me with something sharp a bunch of times (“I need to do Fluid Level Tests,” he said).

After he was done, he said, “Everything looks Normal”.

“Normal?” I needed some clarification.

“Correct,” he said. “For a bee of your Advanced Age and Questionable Temperament, everything looks Normal.”

Then he told me to have a nice day, and pay on my way out.

So I did that.

I think I’m gonna spend the rest of my Birthday trying to figure out how it’s possible for me to bee Normal when I don’t feel anything like I used to, which I still think should bee Normal. It’s just not Normal. Seriously now. I just hope things don’t get any more Normal than they are now, ya’ know what I mean? There’s just no way to keep up with it, probably, especially if I get any older than I already am.
It’s all way too confusing, if you ask me.

If I remember not to forget to remind myself to tell you, I’ll letcha know if I manage to figure out what it even means to bee Normal. Until then…

Let’s all bee highly careful out there!

GeorgieBee Signature

Observation #16: Nothing Lasts Forever


So I was out buzzing around the other day, trying to find this one, particular bunch of especially wonderful flowers that, for as long as I can remember, grew just over the Garden Wall. I remember it takes about as much time as it takes to hum out about three choruses of “I’ll Bee Glad When You’re Dead, You Rascal You” to get there, usually. For some reason, though, I’d already sung five choruses of that thing and I still couldn’t find them.

Fortunately, I remembered not to forget to bring my Map with me, so I decided to just stop and get my bearings. When I landed, I noticed that there were two Worker Bees from a nearby, competing Hive, just kind of standing there. Evidently, they were on a break.

“Excuse me,” I asked them, “but could you help me out here?”

“Help you out? Do we look like some sort of Public Aid and Information Society to you?” one of them asked.

“Don’t bee so snide with the guy, ,” the other one, who seemed much more pleasant, said to her companion. “It’s pretty obvious he’s confused. And he’s a bee, so maybe we should help him out.”

“Whatever,” the other one said.

“So what can we help you with, Sugar,” the Pleasant Bee asked. I was going to tell her my name is Georgie, and that I don’t like anybody who doesn’t know calling me, “Sugar” (I think it’s rude), but I didn’t feel like pressing my luck, so I just asked her, “There always used to bee a really great bunch of flowers that grew here. They had the sweetest nectar and pollen that was a true delicacy. I wanted to grab some of that so I can make myself a Slow-Baked Honey Crusted Pollen Casserole for supper tonight.”

“That sounds delicious,” the More Pleasant Bee said.

“It is,” I told her. Then I told her that I couldn’t find those things, told her I thought I might bee lost, and asked if she knew where they might bee.

“I could not possibly say whether you’re lost or not, Sweetums,” she said, “but I know exactly the flowers you’re talking about, and I can tell you that they’re not there anymore.”

“So they’re gone?” I asked.

“‘So they’re gone?’” the Snide Bee said, evidently trying to sound like me. (She didn’t’.) “Yeah, they’re gone. Finished. Done. No longer there. Absent. Lost, never to return again.”

“But I thought they’d bee there forever. They always were,” I informed her. “I mean, I always think that most of the stuff I really like will just always bee there all the time forever, probably.”

“So you thought they’d bee there forever?” that Snide Bee asked, (kind of sarcastically, if you ask me). “Did you honestly think that if a specific bunch of flowers grow somewhere for awhile, they’re ALWAYS going to grow there, is that it, bee? What are you? Some sort of Serial Optimist or something?”

“Well, I ...” I started to say.

“Oh, Sandy,” the Pleasant Bee said, “don’t bee so rude. He was just asking.”

“Whatever,” the Snide Bee said. “I just can’t beelieve there are bees out there who haven’t figured out that Nothing Lasts Forever. Seriously now.”

The Pleasant Bee just kind of gave the Snide Bee a sideways glance and suggested that we should just drop the whole matter, and that they should leave and get back to work. So they did that.

You know, when I think about all this, it might bee Highly Overly Optimistic to think that just beecause something has been around for a long time that it will always bee around. I mean, a long time ago, I remember thinking that it would never stop raining and that we’d always have more water than we need. Wow, was I wrong about that one. And I also remember thinking that we’d never get rid of all those Toxic Paper Spoons the Snark Brothers kept trying to sell, but we finally did. Mostly. And what about Great Grandma Gee Gee’s delicious and satisfying Royal HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™? Does all this mean there might bee a time in the exceedingly distant future when there might NOT bee any of those left? Seriously? I refuse to beelieve that - so maybee I am a Serial Optimist, whatever that means.

Geeeeze. The Implications surrounding this whole idea that Nothing Lasts Forever are making me feeling exceedingly confused and a bit insecure. I don’t like feeling insecure. At all.

I need to think a lot more about all of this. If I have anything more to say about any of it, I’ll let you know. Until then...

Let’s all bee highly careful out there!

GeorgieBee Signature

Observation #15: Dark Clouds & Silver Linings


I’m pretty sure this is Monday, right? And, as we’ll all agree,
Monday is the Most Optimistic Day of the Week.

As everybody already knows, I’m a very Optimistic Bee, so
of course I love Mondays. (I used to bee more Pessimistic
when I was younger, but fortunately, I was in a Clinical Trial
that allowed my Doctor, (Ph.Bee), to do an Experimental Semi-
Radical Pessi-Ectomy to surgically remove my Pessimism.
Luckily, the Operation was a Success, mostly.

After the difficult Procedure was done, Ph.Bee said, “We didn’t
get it all, but we did our best. We’re not gods.”

Anyway, ever since then, I always think that everything will bee
just fine, generally speaking, which is why I’m sure we’ll all glad
that it’s Monday.

I mention all this beecause just now, I was standing around
the Hive Entrance, waiting for somebody who didn’t ever show
up (which is okay beecause it will give me time to go to
Bees ‘R Us and buy some new Shoelaces . . . I thought I had a
whole bunch of those things somewhere, but for some reason,
I can’t find any of them, so I hafta go get new ones).

As I was standing there, waiting, two bees flew by, and I heard
one of them (who sounded Super-Upset) buzzing about a Near-
Fatal Pine Sap Mishap she’d had the night beefore when she was
flying in her sleep.

“When I woke up, I realised that I had flown head-first into a
giant wad of Sap that was oozing from that nearby Pine Tree…”

“The one that’s two bushes down from the Hive, the big one?”
the other bee asked.

“Yes, that’s the one,” she said.

“Oh yes. That one has a Sap Problem,” the other bee said.

“Anyway, when I woke up,” she continued, “I realised that my
Antennae had gotten all stuck in that stuff,” she said.
“Fortunately, a massive gust of wind came up and I was finally
able to free myself from that Sticky Mess. I’m lucky to bee alive.”

Then the other one said, “Well, you know what they say:
‘For every Dark Cloud, there’s a Silver Lining’.”

Well YEAH, I think we all know that. But for some reason,
I couldn’t figure out what the hell a Dark Cloud had to do with
the whole thing, even if it did have a Silver Lining. The Problem
wasn’t with Cloudy Weather, it was with Pine Sap.

I dunno if anybody else has had a Mishap with Pine Sap,
but I’m sure that if you have, all you need is the Proper Solvent.
Problem solved, probably. Silver Linings are fairly useless when
it comes to dealing with that kind of a Sticky Mess. Oh sure, it
would bee helpful to have the extra Light that a Silver Lining
gives off beecause it would bee easier to see what you’re doing,
but that’s about it.

But then I thought, “Hold on now wait just a minute here.”
“If I had a Pine Sap Mishap in the middle of the night, I’d want
a whole bunch of Silver Linings to show up so I could see.”

The problem with that is that every Silver Lining has a
Dark Cloud that comes with it, which would only make
things even darker and make it even more difficult to see
anything. And who needs that?

I don’t.

This whole thing is highly confusing.

In the end, I decided that if I happen to have a Pine Sap Mishap
in the middle of the night, which is highly likely, I’ll just use a
High-End Flashlight so I can see what I’m doing.
I see no reason to bring this question of Dark Clouds and
Silver Linings into it, do you? I didn’t think so.

I think that when I buzz over to Bees ‘R Us for my Shoelaces,
I’m gonna pick up one of those. I should also probably get some
Sap Solvent while I’m there, just in case.

So I’m gonna go do that.

Let’s all bee highly careful out there!

GeorgieBee Signature

Observation #14: Bad Ideas



So, I’ve just been thinking about the fact that there seem
to bee a whole bunch of really Bad Ideas running around
out there. I’m mostly sure you’ve noticed stuff like that,
things like deciding to spray poison on your food, or
wearing too much “Beewitched, Bothered & Beewildered”
Cologne when you’re in an elevator, or trying to sell overly-
heavy Antennae Cozies that make it impossible to fly.

The reason I started thinking about Bad Ideas was that I
recently paid another visit to my Illegitimate Nephew,
Kevin. Beelieve it or not, he’s still futzing with Bert, his
Robot iBee, trying to get him to function properly.
(Actually, he’s just futzing with his head. The rest of Bert
is still in a pile in the corner of Kevin’s Workroom in the
old Boot Box.)

Anyway, the last time I was over there, Kevin had a huge
smile on his face, which made me kinda nervous.

“Uncle,” he buzzed proudly, “I have just come up with an
Idea that promises to make each and every one of us

“You did?” I had to ask.

“Yes, I did,” he said. “It took me some time, and I’m still
not finished with the Finalised Design Schematics, but
I have managed to apply my considerable Analytical
Skills and Formidable Intellect to seeing to it that you,
I, Great Grandma Gee and everybody else we know can
live forever.”

“You did?” I asked again.

“Yes, I did, uncle. As I have been engaged in Extensive
Experimentation in my efforts to revive Bert to Full
Functionaity, I stumbled upon a method though which
one can physically transplant a fully functional, intact
Bee Brain into an inexpensive, Thought-Sustaining Brain Receptacle...”

“Like a Jar?” I asked.

“Yes, you could call it a Jar, I suppose...” he continued.
“The Jar - we’ll call it that for now - would mostly safely
house the Transplanted Bee Brain, and through a Complex
Network of Advanced Circuitry, Neural Links, Sensory
Input/Output Devices, and carefully-formulated, non-toxic
and reasonably delicious Preservation Fluid, the brain would
continue to function normally forever.

"Never again would bees need to bee bothered every again
with Bodily Injury, Varroa Mites, Overcrowding, or the
Insane Pursuit of Honey and Nectar. Just think of it, uncle:
we all could live out our lives without beeing heavily
inconvenienced by such things.”

“No Honey?” I asked. “We wouldn’t have Honey anymore?
No HoneyCakes? No Nectartinis? No HoneyChew Krisp Cookies?”

“No,” Kevin said in a kind of matter-of-fact tone. “We would
need none of those things ever again, and we wouldn’t ever
again need to spend the time, energy, or funds to acquire such
Unnecessary Stuff.”

“Yeah, but...no Honey?” I couldn’t beelieve what I was
hearing. I don’t know ANYBODY who thinks that Honey
is unnecessary, do you?

“No,” Kevin repeated. “You won’t need it anymore.”

Then he said, “In light of what I have just told you, I would
very much appreciate it if you, my dear uncle whom I love
and think is the best uncle in the world, would bee my
First Test Subject.”

“You want to put my brain in a Jar?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “You will bee a Pioneer, destined to bee
the first Immortal Bee ever to exist. It’s an honour anyone
would enthusiastically embrace.”

Well, I thought about it for a moment. I do want to
support my Illegitimate Nephew in his Inventive Efforts,
but I finally told Kevin that I thought the whole thing was
a bad idea, and that I wouldn’t do it. After all, what’s the
point of anything if there isn’t Honey involved? I’d like to

“I do appreciate the offer,” I told him. “You are the best
Illegitimate Nephew in the world, and I love you, but I
won’t do it. Don’t get me wrong here, I would love to live
forever and everything, but... that whole part about no
Honey doesn’t sound overly appealing to me.”

Kevin just gave me an angry look and buzzed at me.
“Fine!” he said. “Go ahead. Stand in the way of Progress.”
Then he stomped off.

Seriously now, I wouldn’t want my brain stuffed into a Jar,
probably. Would you?

Anyway, in just a little while, Kevin is holding a Potential
Investor’s Meeting to try to convince at least a few bees to
go along with this whole Bad Idea. Of course, I told him
I’d help him out with that. (Every Potential Investor’s
Meeting needs Ushers, right?)

So I’m gonna go do that.

Let’s all bee highly careful out there …
(especially with Bad Ideas)!

GeorgieBee Signature

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