The Birds and The Bees

While the pullets and I have been anxiously awaiting the delivery of the chicken coop, Hubs has been busy with the Spring buzz in his hives. The Spring beekeeper buzz is an intense concert series. Is it any big surprise that the 1964 song sensation, "The Birds and The Bees" is stuck in my head?

Alas, that song is a pretty gnasty psycho trigger for me. I was 10 years old and still academically classified as mentally retarded. My big brown eyes were showing the *readiness* of a child prostitute. I was still mostly mute, but the Mel Tillis music therapy was underway. I had begun singing what needed to be said and was discovering that this singing stuff could even be fun. It was immenently compatible with the enormous amounts of time I spent in the relative safety of the great outdoors. In that particular farmhouse stay, my parents were in the throes of the domestic drama which eventually lead to his first extended psych ward tour. I slept outside more often than not. As the 5th of 11 children in a domestic war zone, I was welcome to do as many wilderness retreats as my little heart desired.

I love that song and still sing it with gusto, but it remains a gnarly psych trigger. A child prostitute knows allot more about fuck parts than romantic innuendo. Sexual predators know allot more about innuendo than romance. Interpreting big brown eyes can get messy. Yes, I do, in literal fact, have big brown eyes. Put the yaddah to the blah and the blah to the yaddah and. . . Processing. . . Plying therapy tools. . . Breathing. . .

I have reframed that song more than once over my healing journey by rewriting the lyrics but donae believe I have ever actually written down any of the rewrites. Most of those lyrical mutilations were mean, vengeful channels for my anger. This go-round finds me wanting to take it literal. I'm not metaphoring around, folks. The birds and the bees really are amazing wonders. They are worth giving up some innuendo for. I think. Maybe. We see what is left after the psychopation passes.

There are 3 deliveries scheduled for today. 1) Bet ya already guessed. 2) The farm handy who went to visit his daughter this weekend and needs to be picked up at the train station. 3) Johny Deere who went to the spa last week for his routine maintenance. I'm working to shake the fear that all 3 deliveries will happen at the same time. That seems to happen with discouraging frequency.