Mornings on the deck-dock are about as good as anything ever gets in life, I'm sure. We get up eeeeeearly. I LOVE COFFEE. It's been really cold. This morning the Bee bounced out of the ether and decided to keep Clover and me company. Usually when C and I are out there in the morning the Bee perches somewhere across the yard and stares at us. And I really do think that she thinks, "Isn't this nice, just us three girls, all hanging out here together!" Even though she's twenty-five feet away. I giggle. This spring she turned eleven years old. We've had her since she was no bigger than a bird. She's such a funny, weird, sweet little creature. Clover-dog and Violet-cat are two of the least self-conscious animals I've ever known. They will each splay themselves on top of just about anybody within reach, and look at them with big trusting eyes, and roll over for a belly rub at the slightest invitation. Not so our socially awkward, chronically skeptical Bridget (a.k.a. the Bee). The Bee, though she looks like a fluffy baby bunny, is made of rubber-bands about to snap. Every once in a while, like this morning, I'll find myself the object of her rather fraught and twitchy sort of interest. It's both very flattering and super nervewracking. Suddenly she's there (she's spring-loaded), prancing around (she's tiny) on the arm of my Adirondack chair. She tries to figure out how to get her head petted and almost falls off the chair. She hot-foots it back and forth across my lap a few times as if walking on glowing coals. She stands with all fours on my lap for a minute, kneading me with her ten tiny needlelike claws. I hold my breath and do everything I can to keep from moving — it hurts — but I can't stop myself: An involuntary "Eeeeeeeeeeeouch!" squeals out of me, and boing!, she is over-and-out, halfway across the yard before I can even blink. Being a Beekeeper is occasionally scary. She's so unpredictable you're never sure if she's going to be nice to you or punch you in the face. I think today she was trying to be nice, if you call suddenly tattooing someone's inner thigh as they're sitting quietly outside at six o'clock in the morning wearing absolutely nothing but a thin white nightgown while trying to drink coffee and mind their own business nice.

In other fauna news, the hermit crab I am babysitting for one of my little neighbors across the street looks like it has almost finished eating its own exoskeleten that it shed last week, the thought and sight of which has made me want to throw up about seven times a day every day that he's been here. But I still kind of love him.

Comments

[Wendy G]

Thank you for being the kind of grown-up who would crab sit for a kiddo. Having the honor of that position bestowed upon you says boatloads about your character and kind heart.

[Alice S]

Exquisite photography. I enjoy a glimpse into your beautiful world.

[Ketra]

Thanks for the morning giggle. Poor Bee, to be so tightly wound! Your morning looks and sounds lovely.

[Laura A.]

What everyone else says. Thank you for brightening my day.

[marjan]

Exquisite photography indeed! What a lovely way to wake up...
Marjan

[Jodi Anderson]

*oh, just, happy random things that aren't words* xo

[Julie Loeschke]

I come to your blog when I need a smile.:)

[Amy]

Truly the first hermit crab baby sitting story I have ever read. That you can still find a place in your heart for him despite his, um, approach to grooming and housekeeping speaks volumes.

We have a similar situation with our young Oliver cat, who truly seems like a space alien's pet sent to earth to live among the humans. He's so highly wound it's like he's picking up signals from space, has flying saucer sized eyes, and jumps up and streaks away so quickly we're not sure he was actually where he was in the first place. But at the same time he can be the sweetest, most endearing thing, whose sleep poses and arm-of-the-chair straddling makes him endlessly lovable. We can only imagine how he would be if he hadn't been separated from his momma when he was so young. But he's be less interesting, that's for certain.

[Lois the Librarian]

My cat Lys is a pugilist. When I adopted her as her "last chance" she sat on the arm of a chair and boxed my ears and face. When she is sweet (which is only to me), she is exceedingly sweet, but when she wants to, she can scare the daylights out of me - just like Bee.

[Melissa P]

It's no wonder the Bee wanted to be more directly involved. The setting is wonderful. Just too much wonderfulness for a cat composed of rubber bands.

[jen@thecottagenest]

I love your description of your morning. It makes me want to come sit a spell some early morning with you or at least make a cozy little spot on my own back porch. Your pictures are just breathtaking today!

[Christine]

Hermit crab story just about made me throw up and laugh hysterically at the same time.

[Kelly]

This was all very wonderful to read. And except for the fluffy bunny part, it seems that I have a lot in common with the Bee.

[June (planetjune)]

You can be un-grossed out, Alicia: hermit crabs don't have a hard shell, so they borrow an empty seashell and vacate it to move into larger premises as they grow. So it's only eating its prior house, not its own skeleton - not quite so disgusting...

[Neicee]

What wonderful photos you really do have an eye for that. I enjoy your blog so very much..I enjoy seeing that afghan also..Love it.

[Regina Anne]

O' the joys of owning a 'high maintenance' cat! Our prickly kitty came to us as a tiny, just fit into your palm, kitten 21 years ago and we were so smitten - we named her Muffin. Over the past years that name has morphed into 'The Muffilator' as in Terminator. She's sweet in her own way -- but, petting and lap-sitting on very much on her terms or not at all. But we love her just the way she is - prickles/warts and all !

[Jordan]

Ya' know, I can totally imagine water just outside the frame of that photo. It really could be a dock! I am jealous of your morning. It sounds marvelous. :)

[lyn]

I too love this post...and have a cat that doesnt really like to be cuddled and you take your life in your hands if you touch the royal tummy!
xxx

[greenrabbitdesigns]

That is just a perfect description of needlelike-claw kneading, been there, done that, got the scars!!! :)
I've never known anyone to keep a hermit crab as a pet, let alone baby-sit one!
Vivienne x

[Julie G. in Iowa]

Such a funny post today! :D Your way with words and pets has me smiling here at work. Thanks for that during an otherwise crazy-hectic day!

[Natalie VV]

The Bee and Chango, our dear and almost domesticated kitty, share quite a bit in common. He wants to relax, to join the living, but he has those same tightly wound rubber bands, and is always ready to spring from anything that triggers his nerves.
Alicia, your pictures, the camera, your skills, the light, your subjects, the new sizing... everything is heightened and lovely and worth noting. I do love what you share.

[leanne]

thank you for making my day...sigh.....i had a cat like that. mimi...she never learned to just chillax either. xo

[Amy Kortuem]

I'm a Beekeeper, too, Alicia. Mine is a Jingle Belle (known as "B" most of the time unless she's been caught doing something naughty, which she rarely does anymore because she's a very cool 12 years old). She's equally skittish and just as equally inconsistent in her showing of affection. When she does hunker down on my lap, tail twitching and ears up, I enjoy the moment. She makes me BE in the present, the B does.

[Julie]

1. Your photos keep getting gorgeouser and gorgeouser.

2. That line about being the Beekeeper made me laugh.

3. Thank you for not sharing a picture of the hermit crab.

4. :)

[Michael - Innkeeper]

for the past couple years i thought that your photos couldn't get any prettier.

i was wrong. boy was i wrong.