Speaker 1: Bedtime with Missus Honeybee. Today in the Honeybee neighborhood, we'll
be constructing the perfect summer day.
Speaker 2: What's your perfect summer day, Missus Honeybee.
Speaker 1: Hmmm, I'll have to think about that. What about yours,
my dear?
Speaker 2: I love relaxing in the sunshine, but hmmm, it's hard
to say what the perfect summer day would be. What
about you, Melani?
Speaker 1: Be easy.
Speaker 3: The perfect summer day is playing in the sprinklers.
Speaker 2: Oh oh no, no, no, no no. It's going to the beach.
Oh oh no, no, no no.
Speaker 3: It's having a cool party.
Speaker 2: Oh no, no, no no.
Speaker 1: Not so simple of a question to answer. Huh, I
guess not.
Speaker 2: How are we going to figure this out? Will have
to become Summer Day Detectives, an experiment with all the
best possible summer days.
Speaker 1: Let's finally get to the bottom of this age old question.
Speaker 3: What does the most perfectest summer day in town?
Speaker 1: All you have to do is close your eyes, get cozy,
and listen to the sound of my voice. Missus Honeybee
will be your guide. Let's begin. You are here walking
up to our porch on a beautifully sunny day. The
sun is so bright that to see our smiling faces
looking back at you from the cozy porch chairs, you
have to shade eyes a bit with your hands, take
a slow, deep rep in through your nose, feel the
coolness of the air coming in through your nose as
the sunshine warms your skin. Then slowly breathe all the
way out through your mouth and bend down to catch
Harold in your arms as he runs towards you with
so much excitement. You scoop him up in your arms
and he wiggles every which way to make sure his
puppy kisses don't miss a single spot. Hello, my little
honey bee, you're here just in time to help us
settle something we can't quite figure out.
Speaker 3: What do you think we should do today? It's so
lovely outside. We want to soak up every sparkling moment
of this perfect summer day.
Speaker 2: Obviously that means we should go fishing and enjoy a
lazy day on the Honey River. Obviously, not so obvious.
Speaker 1: I think we're already having the most perfect summer day.
A nice relaxing afternoon spent reading on the porch. That's it.
That sounds like the best way to spend our time.
Speaker 4: Maybe after we have buzzed far and wide on a
pollinating adventure, finding new flowers and following our inner sense.
Speaker 3: Of exciting life. Oh antag, we have to play tag in.
Speaker 1: The sprinklers, you see, my little honeybee. We're at a
stand still, and the morning is floating by the sun
will set before we know it. What do you think
sounds best? You think to yourself, for a moment, petting
Harold's fluffy ears to help you focus on the task
at hand. He looks up at you with his happy
brown eyes, and you remember that there isn't ever just
one way. There are usually multiple ways, which are all great,
but for different reasons. Because of that, you look back
to us, eagerly awaiting your judgment, and gleefully suggest that
we do all of them.
Speaker 2: That's a really good idea, my little honeybee. How else
can we determine scientific precision what makes the most perfectest
summer day? Besides actually doing all the options?
Speaker 3: Great idea, as always, little honey bee. So the only
question left is what do we do first?
Speaker 1: Well, if we start with a pollination adventure that could
lead us to the Honey River for a lazy fishing afternoon,
then we can end with a relaxing read on the porch.
Speaker 2: Let's do it.
Speaker 1: Harold leads the way, with Melody Bee buzzing closely behind.
She's sniffing out some flowers for us to see and
is excited to see them for herself. We set off
into this summertime adventure with our faces to the sunshine
and our smiles big. Take another slow, deep breath in
through your nose, fill your chest, and your spirit's lift.
Excited for this day and all the possibilities it will bring.
Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth
and peruse the colorful flowers as they come into view.
Lining the sidewalks and even breaking through the cracks, Melody
Bee started, then quickly stopped a game of tag to
admire one of these little yellow dandelions who managed to
crack through the concrete with a force much greater than
we assume it had.
Speaker 3: Stop stop tag time out, careful not to step on
this guy. Would you look at him? He broke through
the sidewalk and poked up his head just to say hello.
Do you know how hard that is?
Speaker 1: At Melody B's suggestion, we all try our best to
follow in the footsteps of this earth shattering dandelion and
break through the concrete that stays stubbornly in place.
Speaker 2: Whew, this sidewalk isn't going anywhere, at least not until
the next dandelion or tree root decides it wants some sunshine.
Speaker 1: Who knew such a tiny looking flower could choose to
reach up and break apart something so strong. Melody Bee
gathers a bit of the bright yellow pollen in her
satchel and blows at a big kiss to pollinate the dandelion.
As we walk, we begin to notice all the places
where plants and flowers have broken through the asphalt and
concrete substances we consider so strong that they are chosen
as the foundation of our civilization. Not so, or so,
we learn. We pollinate and play tag all the way
to the banks of the Honey River, where mister Honeybee's
fishing boat lays up against the trunk of a tree,
waiting for us. The refreshing sounds of a cool river
seem to be calling us, and since we've n out
in the sun for so long, we are excited to
answer that call. We lean down to splash our hands
and feet in the water. Harold belly flops into the
river like he usually does, then hops in the boat
and shakes off all his fur, sprinkling us with a
refreshing mist that glistens in the sunshine on our skin.
Speaker 2: Are you already for the most perfect summer day activity?
Speaker 3: I think we already had that, mister Honeybee.
Speaker 2: But this is a close second. I'll give you that.
Speaker 1: If only this boat floated to the porch then had
a bookshelf, then I think it would be the most perfect.
Not wanting to waste any more summertime with debate, Harold
shepherds us out on to the water. We push off
the shore and let the little fishing boat float as
it pleases along the currents of the Honey River. Take
another slow, deep breath in through your nose. Feel the
coolness of the air coming in through your nose like
its own river that finds its way directly to your lungs.
Allow the fresh air to invigorate you. Then slowly breathe
all the way out through your mouth until every last
drop of air is released, and let yourself feel heavy
in the boat, supported and floating effortlessly.
Speaker 2: This is it, This is the best right.
Speaker 1: Here, mister honeybee kicks up his bare feet on the
side of the boat and leans all the way back
with his hands behind his head and his hat over
his eyes for a little snooze. To give this activity
a fair try, we all follow soup and stretch out
to soak in the sunshine and fresh air. Look all
the way to one side toward the endless Honey River
until you can feel a little stretch. Then look all
the way to the other side, where you can see
the river rolling down from the mountain, until you can
feel a little stretch on that side too. Bring your
head back to a comfortable setd and clear your mind
of any intruding thoughts, worries, or concerns, like mister honeybee,
who has now fallen asleep. Let yourself float and nothing else.
We're just floating, floating, floating down the Honey River. Our
fishing poles hang over the edge of the boat, with
our feet doing most of the work for us, while
the river does the rest. We achieve a deep, restorative
relaxation that lulls us to a sunshine nap. When fish
nibble the bait on our lines, we wake up to
see them, say hi, and toss them back in the
river with extra bait for their fish, friends and family.
We continue on down the river, doing nothing at all
and enjoying it thoroughly, especially after such an active adventure
to the banks of the Honey River, pollinating almost every
flower we came across. When the boat gently floats onto
the shore, back in the direction from where we came,
we hop out and stroll our way back home to
enjoy our last summertime activity before making a decision about
which is the most perfectest. Now onto what I'm sure
you all will find to be the best summer day
activity to start. It's crucial to begin noticing the little thing,
appreciating the colors and textures and feeling of each moment
we move into and out of. Let's walk through the
grass without our shoes on.
Speaker 2: Oh, I like this, It's so squishy and bitchy.
Speaker 1: We notice the colorful butterflies that fly by, the sweet
smell of ripening strawberries, and feel the soft grass bending
beneath our feet with each step. Right foot, left foot,
right foot, left foot. When we get back home to
our front porch, our favorite books are waiting for us,
along with fresh squeeze lemonade and tea. I bring us
little nibbles of watermelon and other summer fruits to enjoy
at our leisure as we sink into our second favorite worlds, because,
as we all know, the Honeybee neighborhood is our first
favorite one.
Speaker 3: Woo, this is quite nice, missus honey Bee.
Speaker 2: I must admit we're missing a bit of the movement
floating on the river, but this is nice, especially as
an end to a fun filled day.
Speaker 1: See, I told you this was the best.
Speaker 2: WHOA, I wouldn't go that far, my dear.
Speaker 3: Yeah, we haven't put it up for a vote. What
do you think, little honey Bee?
Speaker 1: Harold captures the mood with a being yawn. As you
think about your answer, take a sligh deep breath in
through your nose, bring your awareness to the sensation of
your heart beating once, twice, three times overflowing with joy.
Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth
and reflect on just how much fun you've had today.
While you can't come to an easy conclusion, you do
see a pattern forming in your final judgment of what
constitutes the most perfectest summer day. You ask us what
these three activities all have in common, and we puzzle
over the question as we relax on the porch. Before
any of us can get our answers, Harold is distracted
by a little bird that swoops down to entice him
into a game of tag, which Melody Bee happily joins
without invitation. Mister Honeybee laughs and follows along until he
makes it over to his garage where he has his
new fishing pole waiting. Without thinking about it, he uses
the last bit of sunshine to help him polish it
up until it sparkles. He lugs out his new tackle
box and carefully organizes all the different baits he has
into the little squares. He tries on his new fishing
vest and calls you over to try on yours. It
has plenty of pockets, which is an improvement from you
her own tattered vest that has been used up until
the last threads cannot hold it together anymore. I smile
at everyone and lean back in my favorite rocking chair,
feeling grateful that you and I and mister Honeybee and
Melody Bee and Harold get to spend all this time
together no matter what we're doing. And that is when
I realize the answer to your question. As Melody Bee
chases Harold and Harold chases her back as mister Honeybee
proudly holds up his gleaming fishing pole that is just
about ready for his next fishing trip. As we sit
back and relax on the porch, sipping sweet lemonade and
nibbling on delicious snacks without a care in the world,
we realize that the most perfectest summer day is exactly
what we're doing. It doesn't have to be anything special.
In particular, we could spend the sunshine hours doing nothing
much at all. But if we're doing it together, we're
doing it right. That togetherness makes memories, and summertime is
for sweet fun memories. We let that realization sink in
as we sink into our chair. You eventually cannot resist
Harold and Melody's game of tag, and mister Honeybee cannot
resist showing you a new technique for casting a fishing line.
I sit back and watch all of these memories take
place without any of you noticing, and for that I
am beyond grateful to have discovered what makes the most
perfect summer day. Always remember, missus Honeybee believes in you.
You are special, and you are loved. I can't wait
to see you again.