Watching a bumble bee in the rhododendrons I noticed that they are very inelegant within the bloom, kind of falling about, even wriggling around upside down at one stage. I wonder if this is to get as much pollen as possible or if they are just clumsy fat little anomalies. I remember my father telling me that the bumblebee is not supposed to be able to fly, aerodynamically they are completely wrong for flight. However, this is a myth which was put out by some Swiss engineer, and bumblebees can fly because their wings encounter dynamic stall with every oscillation, which is something like a vortex of air which is formed by the movement of the wings, which the body then rides on, a little like how a helicopter works.
No running again, as I have still been ill today, utterly miserable, my head full of pain and snot and tears, it would seem. I read a book about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa in 1995, which brought back all kinds of memories of the terrible times of the 80's, and resulted in a lot of 'snot en trane' (the aforementioned wet-nosed weeping). And once you let yourself go about one subject, all the sadness in the world leaps in for a chance at your tears, the oil spilling into the Gulf of Mexico, the fact that you will never see your mother or your father again, your daughters living in other countries because of the stupid laws of your adopted country.
Tim kindly comforted me, and eventually I "pulled myself towards myself" as Jess used to say.
I hate being sick, it makes you weak and feeble and ridiculous. I am so disappointed in my body for giving in to this virus, too. I know everyone hates being laid-up, but as I joked with Emma today, I loathe it more than anyone else. Being such a sickly child was enough illness for a lifetime. A drawing of a farm nearby for today.
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