Bee back soon...

In my ongoing effort to grow a decent zucchini, we planted carefully this year.
Marc prepared the soil.
I re-read my Western Gardens book and planted seeds in two little hills.
We watered faithfully and kept our fingers well crossed.
Now we have lush, flowering, big-leafed zucchini plants.
But no zucchini.
The plants are huge with large yellow flowers.
The leaves are green and there is a lot of potential.
But no zucchini.
(Actually there's one, a tiny 3-inch fruit that we reaped and cooked and ate. Given the size of the plants, there should be more!)
We couldn't figure out what was wrong until we read a story in the newspaper about a serious lack of bumblebees.
Apparently we are not the only ones out there wondering what happened to our garden crops.
They are not being pollinated.
The bees are not coming by and doing their job.
That's apparently because there is a shortage of bees due to global warming, pesticide use and loss of habitat.
In fact, according to the Deseret News story, there are 93 percent fewer bumblebees than there have been in the last 20 years.
The bumblebee may make the endangered species list.
I'm worried and not just about my zucchini.
I think it's a serious sign of trouble.
We are cutting down forests, wiping out coral reefs, warming the arctic ice and generally messing up the planet.
I think it's time to redefine ourselves and our goals.
There's a lot at stake, billions of dollars and food for bears since the huckeberries in the wild aren't getting what they need either.
Meanwhile, to be clear, I need my zucchini.

A new ride...

Marc doesn't ask much of a bicycle, just for it to let him log thousands of carefree miles and to keep on chugging day after day, ride after ride.
He tries to "hop on his bike and take a short ride" every chance he gets.
So when he didn't immediately fix his latest flat and get back out on the road, I knew there was a problem.
Seems the tire had developed a malady that popped the inner tube the minute he put one back into place.
It hissed when Marc put it in the garage. It made a booming sound in the night.
I slowly realized it was time for a new one — a new bike, that is.
(This is after the Trek had been in rigorous service for 20 years.)
Marc has faithfully hit the road for years, working off calories and burning rubber in hot and cold weather.
He has replaced almost every part of the bicycle, especially inner tubes and tires as he has a tendency to run over bullheads. ("I don't know where they come from, Sharon!")
He's been quite happy and tracked himself religiously over the years.
He's ridden to the various canyons and back again. He's biked around Bear Lake a few times. He's flown home from Midway on his wheels.
I sometimes go with him but not often. I slow him down.
I know he loves the speed and the wind in his hair.
He likes to live dangerously, I think.
He does wear a helmet and he will come in out of the rain if he sees lightning.
He claims he doesn't go too fast probably because he can't usually get a top speed of more than 15 miles an hour.
(However, he does tell me the new bike goes faster all by itself!)
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I asked him if it was time for a new bike and he said, "Maybe."
The next day he had one on hold at the bike shop in town.
There is a bike shortage right now, he told me. One has to move quickly to get the one you want.
We are now the proud owners of a new, sleek Trek that amazingly has everything he wants in a bike.
The old gadgets fit right on.
It's lightweight and very nice.
I'm happy for my husband.
Just not sure if I've been taken for a ride...

A man and his new friend.