I had the strangest dream. All else aside, and there was a lot of "else", I dreamed that I collected lots of bees, who were in different coloured jerseys - they seemed to be in teams of green, red, blue, and yellow, striped, obviously, these were bees after all - and put them in a big jar. Later I released them but by then they were in my mouth and I had to get them out so they could be free. They never felt like they were getting aggressive or that I was in danger of being stung, in fact I remember thinking that I was lucky not to be stung (who wouldn't?) and that the bees all seemed pretty cheery. Those bees, they can have a good time anywhere, right? ... Anyway, I woke up shouting "FREE THE BEES". Maudie, for one, wasn't entirely happy with the interruption.
I'm sure there's some big-up Freudian McShizzle in there (and if I start telling you about the lady who was collecting something else, I forget what, who drove through the snowy night in her incongruous porsche only for it to freeze into a giant poseur ice cube, we'll just complicate matters) but what I can extrapolate from my generally perplexing dream dictionary, is that I am, or should be, open and receptive to being "busy as a bee". The predominant colour of bee jersey was green, which suggests new growth and also feelings of calm and hope. I will ignore the other suggestions in the dictionary wherein I am painted as a jealous harridan who is destined to be a weakling. The dream was positive so I feel free to be as selective as I choose. Because that is how I roll. So now I'm off to go all hive on my beeswax and get some work done.
"When the flower blooms, the bees come uninvited" - Ramakrishna.