I like honey. In fact, I might go so far as to say I love honey, although not as much as my daughters. This rant has two prongs to it; one being that the next person to tell me Billy Bee honey is so wonderful is gonna get a foot in their arse, and the second is that constant article about the guy in Ontario that went through colony collapse.
First, I’m not condemning people who like Billy Bee. Go for it. Eat whatever corn syrup-flavored honey you want. I’ll stick …

That’s right, I appear to have skipped right over 12 and landed in week 13. It only appears so, though. 12 is hidden away elsewhere, and is completely private, available only to me. BUT… I’ll make it up to you, soon.

So many people had such a horrible year last year; some even had it carried over from 2013. For us, we had the two seriously stressful points last year, a handful the year before. Neither as bad (perhaps in hindsight?) as they could have been. I mean, geez, I write some pretty dark fiction sometimes, so I can come up with crazy, dark scenarios.

Of course everything was going too smoothly. I should know better. I should have realized – and now my temper is less than a micro-second away from snapping, and I frankly don’t think I should be held responsible for my actions.

After a Friday and weekend of pouting, mostly offline, here I am. A little the worse for wear, a little snarky, a little miffed… but still here.
Because here is where I’m supposed to be, right?