I have been acutely feeling the isolation out here since the end of the Grand Fest. Since my sister and all our grandbabies went home two weeks ago, this place feels like an echo chamber. A quality of my loner lifestyle is that most of the time I thrive by myself. Most days when I am alone I feel far less isolated than I do in the midst of a crowd. Alone, I go where I want and do what I want without the committee sessions that are necessary for a joint effort. Committees... I believe they are proof that none of us can be as stupid as all of us. When the isolation does have a negative impact on me, it hits me like a freight train. I bee feeling like a nickle squashed between the train and the rail.

Most mornings during this experiment, my bee chores have been done by this hour. It is when the bees are calmest. I can work on their grounds without getting in the way of flight paths, etc. At dawn, they are still stretching and having their pollen coffee.

This morning finds me bouncing from Can't to Can't in a rich man's playpen. More of my mental energy is going to the endeavors I left in Bolivia than on the needs in front of me. I have gotten as far as tying back my hair and putting on the swimsuit I wear under my bee suit, but... Those Can'ts keep canning my act... Yesterday's argument with hubs is echoing off every surface.

Sigh...

I have let my music therapy slide in the course of this experiment. Methinks I oughta fix that. The callouses on my chording had are nearly gone.

Ouch.