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This is the forum where blog prompts will be posted for the Blogging Circle of Friends. |
Suzanne and the Bumble Bee Suzanne ran from Mother’s flower garden after a bumble bee buzzed in and out of the rosebush, making a beeline for her fair cheeks. It wasn’t the first time since spring came in wet and wetter. Bees were everywhere with gallons of nectar to drink. Suzanne knew better than to linger while they feasted. Suzanne benefited from her mom and dad’s quest to educate her early. As teachers, they developed a system that is now in the final production phase. Duplicating the method they designed for their toddler, index cards were taped to every item in their home, with its name, what it was, and what it did. Her spelling, reading, and writing skills gave Suzanne a head start. Born on New Year’s Eve, she was four years old when she started school. She was always the youngest student in her classes—the youngest at one end, and number one scholastically on the other. Studying for her Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT) took her to Mom’s flower garden. She would snip a few yellow roses, gorgeous in their bright yellow with fade-to-cream centers. The aroma of roses calmed her and reminded her of her sweet Grammy. Grammy, a retired high school English teacher, was her mentor and biggest cheerleader. College quickly approached. She had applied to three of the best. More than a fabulously high intelligence quotient, Suzanne was born with common sense. A streak of decisions about her future proved it. Her parents, Mom Lyndsey, and Pop Walter drove to Butcher on the first Monday of each month. It was the closest place to shop for groceries. They’d purchase only dry goods. They had milk and other dairy products home-delivered. They picked up feed for Jinx and Jasper, their geldings, at Jones’ Feed Supply. Often a stop at Sid’s Hardware Store could not be avoided. Today they sought four-inch nails to repair a corner of the screened back porch. They could order all they needed online and have it delivered. Instead, they liked to see and hold their purchases. Invariably, they would see fellow teachers or mutual church members in town. They had grown up without the immediacy of the internet. The connection with their friends and family would be a part of their routine for some time. Several of the old-fashioned ways of their respective parents stuck. Sending thank you notes, calling ahead to ask permission to pay a visit to a friend, and the belief that honesty was the best policy, to name a few. After errands, they were off to Haymaker Restaurant a mile further west of Butcher. Their meatloaf sandwiches were firm yet still juicy. Lyn and Walt looked forward to their monthly date. They discussed their daughter’s college selections at the same time Suzanne was running from the bumble bee. “Her grade point average along with her community service will get her into any one of them.” Walt commented. “I know, dear. I am concerned about Dave Short. He will be a distraction.” “Now, honey, we have talked about this before. Suzie has a strong head on her shoulders. After all, we are childhood sweethearts, and look how wonderful our life has been.” Lyn nodded and giggled. “The best thing ever happened was your daddy bringing you and your family here. Lucky chance I took to help get you settled in Mrs. Door’s third-grade classroom. Remember all the panda bear decorations? I hear the day she retired, those bears were still stapled everywhere. She was leaving them for her replacement to care for. Diane is taking the new third-grade class. Do you remember her? She helps us out in the church office on Saturdays. The last time I ran across her, Diane’s focus was saving the penguins. As if they are endangered.” They paused as dessert was served. “Three of the penguin species are endangered,” said Walt as he popped more strawberries into his mouth. He cited his trustworthy Professor Google. “The African, Emperor, and Crested.” “We did have pure principles back in the day, didn’t we?” Lyn nodded acknowledging his research habit and expected him to agree. It was a perfect time for the couple to spend part of their monthly lunch looking back on the good old days. “I told Suzie, I said, Favorite daughter? Her answer was, ‘Yeah, Dad your only daughter.” Enjoy each day of your life. One day, sooner rather than later, they will be your good old days.” “Let’s get going,” Lyn said. “I’m anxious to see if any envelopes show a college return address.” She turned more sharply than planned, slipped right out of her flip-flops, and her left heel landed square on a bumble bee resting on a twig. She fell the rest of the way to the ground and immediately passed out. Mom and Dad reached home midafternoon. The mail was a small ad circular and the power bill. “Suzie!” Mom called. “Mail call! Honey, will you run upstairs? Tell Suzie there is no mail for her today.” Dad called through the door, “Suzie, Sweet Pea, it’s Dad!” No response. “Suzie! Can you hear me?” He reached for the skeleton key on top of the door frame, looked in on Suzanne, and found her sleeping. A few hours before, upon returning to consciousness, she vomited feeling too weak to stand up. Within an hour she still lay near the garden. Hives broke out with the itching unbearable. She crawled back to the house, upstairs to her room where she nearly passed out a second time as she struggled to stand up. She pulled herself into bed, felt warm fluids oozing out, and blessedly was unconscious to avoid the pain. It was never an opportune time to discover you’re allergic to bees. She would learn about anaphylactic shock and how close she came to catastrophe. She was looking forward to being away, not too far away that she couldn’t come home at will. The freedom to make her way without the constant constraints of parent watch felt euphoric. She ordered a MedAlert bracelet and had her family physician prescript Epi Pens which are used as emergency treatment for her bee allergy. She was armed and ready. “College, here I come!” She began to plan her budget, costs, and financial wellness. She sat back in bed, sighed, and looked out her window. Her world was changing, and improving, and she had the rest of her life to live with hope and enthusiasm. She approached the stairs, ready to go down and fill in her parents on her ordeal and looking forward to their predictable hugs and reassurances that all would be okay. |