I’m in love.
I have my very own honeybee. I have a crown… finally.
Over my heart because I’m an old fashioned Utah girl at heart.
On a day I need to remember that I’m a strong woman, and it’s ok to be sweet too.
As a farmer, I love bees. I saw firsthand last year what colony collapse looks like… and found a bunch of disfigured bees in the garden.
It took me a minute to figure out what they were, because they had short squared off wings and kept falling off of the plants. I collected a bunch of them, and sent them to the state.
I’m 100% organic, but I would swear they’ve been exposed to something poisonous. Poor little things. I put them all in one of my bowls from the kitchen and they just stood huddled together. I fell in love with them. Poor little disadvantaged honeybees… out doing their best to help my garden.
So in homage to my poor little hardworking bees, I got my own bee. Courtesy of my dear tattoo queen honeybee herself.
Ahhhh needle therapy. Flowers…cherries…a honeybee… maybe I need a vegetable next?
Apparently you can take the girl out of the garden, but you can’t take the garden out of the girl.
Don’t talk to that guy again. Call me instead.
interesting choice of images… I am in a group who loves the napoleonic bee. We use it as a symbol of purity and the giver of the sweetest tastes in life. It represents a new aspect of culture which is very old-school while giving new life to civilized culture in the modern age. I love the bee… always have, always will… reminds me of why napoleon wrote to josephine…all of those many beautiful words….those beautiful loving thoughts shared between amazing lovers… I would not have thought of that choice by any girl….once again, i’m surprised… then again…there are a few lost thoughts that I’ll keep to myself…
T.
I bought a ring from the Metropolitan Museum of Fine Art that is a replica of a ring Napoleon gave to Josephine. It says “Vous et nul autre” or “You and no other” once upon a time. I love the idea, I just don’t know if I believe in it anymore. I’m damn disenchanted these days.
T, I love you. I love your perspective and I’m sad, sad, sad that you kept any thoughts to yourself because I couldn’t wait to hear what you thought of my fabulous new tattoo. It’s my favorite… in fact I stood naked in the bathroom this morning staring at it, turned to the right and lifted my arm and considered seriously a whole string of them down my ribs… granted… I’m a tattoo addict… but I love, love, love her.
I’m a Utah girl. I have Mormon roots. I’m of the Beehive state, through and through. I could never live there, but when I’m there, I feel like I’m home. It smells like home. I don’t have to explain why I love to knit, why I grow my own veggies and why I’m addicted to canning what comes out of the garden. I NEVER have to explain why a cherry apron and heels is my chosen uniform.
I’m from the domestic epicenter, and I embrace every single bit of my inner honeybee….so much so I couldn’t resist the urge to tattoo her on the outside…
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