A Bee in the Washing Machine of Life

Today I’ve been reorganizing my bedroom. This is a direct result of having more storage in our shiny new shedIt is a prerequisite of such activities that sheets, blankets, and any other soft furnishings not nailed down, must be washed.

… including the covers from my hot water bottles

The only thing I am willing to admit I miss about summer is sun dried washing. Unfortunately, by this time of year our backyard is shrouded in tree-shade until about 3pm where the sun dips under the fir trees and has a moment of brilliance, until it swiftly sinks behind the hills on the far side of Widder Lake

As a counterpoint to the ‘bench-by-the-lake-in-summer’ picture I posted at the top of my last post, here’s the same bench, a few winter’s ago, all snug in the snow, with the ‘blocking-the-clothes-drying-sun’ hills in the background

With my arms overflowing with bedclothes and other sundries, I negotiated the narrow trail that was all that was left of the hallway after the stuff to be relocated to the shed had vacated my room but wasn’t quite out the back door yet.

I plonked the load down on top of the dryer, got the water running into the washing machine next to it, and measured out the soap to get the whole operation underway, when I saw a forlorn little critter clinging to the side of the drum, probably freaking out at the sudden crashing waterfall threatening to obliterate it.

A friend of mine back in Oz, on certain occasions when she was feeling down, would say she felt like a lost sock in the washing machine of life. Referring, of course, to the single sock that inevitably shows up when you take a load of washing out of the machine, and that you can never, ever again, find the other one.

I suspect the wee beastie felt somewhat the same way as I gently nudged her into the shallow plastic container reserved for removing spiders from study windows and shower recesses, and carried her out into the soft autumn sunshine, hoping the warmth might revive her.

‘Dear Hive Queen. All hail, O Mighty Honey Provider. I think I am in a different dimension.’

I watched as her little head sank lower and the pulse in her abdomen slowed and slowed, and slowed. Her wings were all folded in on themselves.

I wondered if she had flown her last mission.

There was nothing I could do. Her fate was beyond me.

I checked on her now and then over the next little while. She hadn’t moved.

I came out one last time before we closed the back door against the evening chill and …

… Bee-gone! 🙂

I wished her well and hoped she had many more adventures before the Great Washing Machine of Life finally claimed her for its own.

28 comments on “A Bee in the Washing Machine of Life

  1. Sue Vincent says:

    Hope she has found a warm…and dry…new home 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  2. It’s amazing how they have a little bit of life left to scuttle away with, even when you think they’ve been gone forever. Life is powerful.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Wonderful post – poetic title – bringing the hum-drum to life – and a superb photo of the critter

    Liked by 2 people

  4. bone&silver says:

    Cute! Oh my, how we need to be kind to our bees indeed 👍🏼🙏🏼

    Liked by 1 person

  5. colonialist says:

    They take their time about reviving! I recently posted about getting one to perch on my hand from a swimming pool, and I was stuck with him there for ages of feeling very nervous!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I wonder if she was considering the washing machine as a future beehive. The story she must’ve told when she got back to her gang.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Erin says:

    That does not look like a bee to me. That looks like a yellowjacket. Eek and ick!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Jay says:

    What a poetic little tribute to her.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I probably would have freaked for the spouse to remove the critter

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Kalaya says:

    then I’m very lucky, I do have a wise spouse.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I’m so glad you’re an insect rescuer. 🙂 The bee lives another day.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. […] … … and a sock finally reappears out of the washing machine of life, (just like that bee ) that’s been M.I.A. since midsummer […]


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