Today was one of those days when I seemed to be busy for most of the day but can't really recall anything significant happening.
At present I am going through a stage where I have handed off a lot of my work products to the Sales and Commercial Teams and they are just not up to having difficult discussions with the client. They don't want me to get involved in those discussions but they do want me to develop their arguments for them. At every stage in the process they revert back to me to resend an email that I provided months ago or justify a set of costs that were developed last year and reviewed on multiple occasions since then.
It is not hard work, but it is bloody frustrating to support a Sales team with the collective IQ of a sea squirt. This is a good analogy since the sea squirt has neither prominent testes nor a back bone.
As five o'clock approach I gave up and wandered out in to the garden. Refreshed, I pulled the lawn mower from the shed and ran it around the lawn. I must have been keen as I then fired up the strimmer and tidied up the edges of the lawn too.
I then wandered over to the hive, perched on a tree stump and watched the bees coming and going. Their dedicated collection of nectar and pollen is amazingly calming to watch. It gives me a warm pleasure to see them working and I hope building up a robust colony that will endure the Winter to come.
I don't think I was ever interested in bee keeping to produce honey. After all, several pounds of honey is not the best garden produce for a a diabetic. I just wanted to have a thriving hive ...
... the funny thing is; they may only be insects but, as you care for them, you start to develop an affection for them and want each and every one of them to prosper. There are tens of thousands of them and in the Summer a worker only lives about six weeks, but we find ourselves going out of our way to avoid squashing a single one of them.