List of Lingering Questions about the Two Snow Days + Early Christmas Break from School

1. What about the secret santa gift I bought for Tim? It's still sitting on my desk at school, ungifted. And what did I get?

2. What about that yoghurt I left in the fridge? And the half eaten muffin? And the fruit juice with live cultures? Should I drink it after break? Is it even mine? I thought I finished that one, but then it was still there, in the fridge, that last day...

3. Why did the snow have to go and destroy my Christmas lights? (The tree doesn't light up any more, now.)

4. Have you seen my Christmas bunny? Or do you think it is more of a snow rat?

5. How can I regift my secret santa gift to my unknowing family members, if I never received any secret santa gift?

6. Am I really dead, now?


Happy solstice, everyone! Remember: the solstice is the reason for the season! No one really knows what time of year Jesus was born. The Christian holidays tend to coincide with the pagan holidays that came before them.

I don't care. I'll celebrate anything!

We do open some gifts on Solstice at our house. It's our tradition. But Santa comes on Christmas Eve at midnight, even if some people don't entirely understand that.

This little diddy is actually about pickles!

If the World Should End in Ice

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

-Robert Frost


Now we have school called off for another day! Which means: see you next year, everyone at school! And also means: yes, this is a fantastically huge snowstorm. A foot and a half or so is blowing around out there with some insane wind factor.

Snowmageddon Fever

Experts on happiness say that the happiest times are not going on vacation or visiting with friends or doing other things that supposedly make you happy, but actually, the time right before that: the anticipation of going on vacation or visiting with friends or doing other things you enjoy. Pooh Bear's most joyful moment is the moment just before he has a little smackeral of honey.

At school this week, we have had the anticipation of Christmas vacation all week to make people wired. Then there was the anticipation of Christmas. Then add in the possible snow day factor. Then stir in a little intense sadness induced by a school shooting, some anticipation of the end of the world at the end of the week, and you have a most bizarre and edgy concoction of emotions. I'm frankly quite glad to be done teaching for the day.

And guess what was on the answering machine when I got home? School is cancelled tomorrow for the blizzard. For real.

The weather people are predicting high winds, 12 to 17 inches of snow, and "Thundersnow". Thundersnow should be a superhero, don't you think?

Who Built the Pyramids? The Farting Hero.

Or any of that stuff? Easter Island? The Stonehenge ring?

There's this false assumption that some people make. The assumption is that ancient people were not as smart or imaginative as we are now. It could be that they were smarter and more imaginative. Also, more patient.

Did you know that the pyramid builders were paid primarily in beer? I'm serious.

In other news, god, these kids are driving me nuts. Three more school days. We have a blizzard warning, so who knows what will happen? Christmas break early? We're all hoping, of course. It says right there on the weather report, "Only travel in case of emergency." Does that mean I should call off work?

Today, I gave this fabulous lecture (if I do say so myself!) about Joseph Campbell's monomyth, The Hero's Journey. It culminated with something like, "You are all heroes on your own journeys. Your mission is to make the world a better place." Just before I got to that slide on the power point- or actually, right at that moment, right as I hit the button- someone farted. Loud and stinky. It took five minutes to get the class under control again.


My only consolation: When I collected their notes, 90% of the class had written down, "My mission is to make the world a better place." Including the farter- I think he farted intentionally right then. Some people have that talent, and most, if not all, of those people with that talent, make use of it in middle school lectures when their teachers are talking about the meaning of life!
Well, at least he's good at something. Perhaps the farter has found his bliss. But do you see how sometimes I believe ancient peoples were at least as smart as we are now? There aren't any cave paintings of people passing gas- or are there?

Oh, Christmas Tree

Every year, I put more lights on it. I can't get the top lights down any more. That's okay.

The trouble with not having television...

The trouble with not having a television is that your child then does not understand the finer points of the Santa Claus mythology. Case in point: Little Z wrote her name on the coffee table in crayon. I explained that this was naughty behavior, and Santa would know, and that he may not bring her presents if she continued writing on coffee tables.

"That's not true. Santa doesn't know," she said.

"No, really," I said. "Santa knows everything you do."

"I don't see any elves around." (She actually looked around when she said this.)

"He doesn't have to have the elves. He just knows."

"No he doesn't."

"Dude! Seriously! He doesn't have to send elves! Santa knows everything! He's magical like that. HE JUST KNOWS."

"That seems unlikely," she said.

She's five.

And I thought I was being such a good parent, only letting her watch that educational PBS crap on Netflix. Now she's questioning the omnipresence of Santa Claus? What next?

She also, in another conversation, said that she found it unlikely that Santa really went around in a sled pulled by flying reindeer.

"I mean how is that possible?" She asked in the back seat of my car, gesticulating from her five point car seat.

"The Night Circus" by Erin Morgenstern gets 10,000 DHB's

I stumbled upon The Night Circus through my husband- as usual. He picks out the books and I read them. He knows my taste. He said something like,

"It's about two magicians who are raised to fight each other to the death, but they fall in love."

So, yeah, that's what it's about, technically. So I thought it was like the Hunger Games. It's not at all like the Hunger Games. It is so much better!

The setting really makes the book, in this case. It takes place around 1900, or thereabouts, in a traveling circus. This circus is so different from any circus that ever has been or will be. It is a place where magic is real. Le Cirque des Reves.

That much makes it sound like a children's book, but it is not.

The book really treats friendships seriously. I like that.
I can't express how great this book is. I give it 10,000 DHB's.

X 10,000

Unrelated news

Teresa the Cat is a boy. A boy named Teresa. I never knew before because he never got really close to me before yesterday. Teresa is our outdoor cat who adopted us maybe a year and a half ago. Teresa might be considered feral. I named Teresa after the author of the Frog Blog. Teresa of the Frog Blog writes the comic "Frog Applause

," which is a really good comic.

"Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children" gets 2,000 DHB's

This book combines found photographs and a few monsters to spin an excellent yarn. The style of it works for me, as well. The descriptive writing is excellent. The story keeps a good pace. It's not incredibly scary, but it is exciting and creepy. There is also most definitely an element of the supernatural.

The thing that really makes it work for me are the pictures, though. If you like looking at other people's poorly taken pictures, if you ever have sorted through photos at a flea market and found yourself making up stories to go with the photos, then this may be your book.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs.

I give it 2,000 DHB's.

x 2,000

Mental Vacation

I've been on an escapist mental vacation lately, reading a lot of fiction. I'd like to share my readings here and my opinions of them. I need a rating system. I shall use the DHB system.
I am going to rate books by how many DHB's they deserve. "DHB" is an abbreviation for, "Disgusting Honey Biproduct".

I'm jealous of the ape

Bodkay and Tigery are not usually lap cats, until you put a giant stuffed ape on the couch.

Thankful for all of the dead raccoons in the attic

I dropped Little Z off at school a few days ago and ran into her teacher.

"How's it going?" I asked.

"Oh, I was going to email you." said her teacher. "We were reading about nocturnal animals. Little Z says, 'Well, I don't know about all that stuff you're talking about. I mean, I don't know anything about that. But I do know we used to have a lot more turkeys, but the raccoons were eating them at night? And, well, if you ever need anyone to shoot and kill and skin your raccoons, and to put the skins up on the wall for you- you know if you ever have that problem? You can just call my mom.'"

"She said we could just call you!"

"Well, it's true," I said. "I guess you have my number?"

"If I ever have that problem, I'll know who to call!"

And I'm never sure if they're joking...

Got this email chock full of ironic humor today:

"Anyone interested in meeting to discuss future meetings, topics already mentioned and anything thing else please plan to meet in ---- at ----..."

I was busy at the time they mentioned, so I didn't get to "discuss future meetings" or "topics already mentioned" or "anything thing else".

It's a rich area for discussion. We should really schedule a time when I'm available. Perhaps I should check and see when they are available to meet and discuss my future available times?

Two Ingredients (1,000 posts with this one here!)


Squash Muffins

Take three cans of pumpkin or one cooked pumpkin (it doesn't matter that much what size- it's just more moist and healthier, the greater the pumpkin/ cake mix ratio)


One box of spice cake mix.

Blend together in a big bowl with a mixer for about three minutes.

Line muffin pan with muffin cups. (If you don't have a muffin pan or muffin cups, you can just grease a pan, spread it out, and make muffin bars instead.)

Fill each muffin cup mostly full.

Bake at 350 degrees for twenty minutes. They will rise a bit, but still be very moist in the middle. They don't have to cook that well, because there are no eggs.

You now have squash muffins. They are called "Squash muffins" because they are made of squash, but also because they are really moist and gooey, and you can squash them into your mouth by squeezing the muffin wrapper.

Then say,


And this is actually the 1,000th post of this silly little blog. I noticed two posts later, actually, and am editing. Why do I do it? Not sure.

You people...

There haven't been any "comments" on this blog for a bit. However, I have had comments in the form of actual verbal comments made to me in person. I'll take those, any day. Thanks for reading!

Jack Black is Bernie

Movie Review:

Bernie is the story of a super duper nice guy. He rides into Carthage, Texas and charms the socks off of everyone in town as the assistant funeral director. And then he kills a lady. I guess that's a spoiler, but you kind of know it's going to happen the whole time. It's more fun knowing.

Here's the kicker, though: nobody in Carthage wants to convict him, even thought he seems really really guilty, because he's so nice. And it's a true story!

But the beauty of this movie is not in the plot, anyway. It's the casting of normal looking people, and the use of dialogue like,

"They just didn't understand his high falutin' ways. They were more like, 'put another tire on the fire, Hon.'"

Jack Black plays Bernie. I have decided that Jack Black should be Bernie for the rest of his life. I just love Jack Black as Bernie.

Anyway, see it. It's great. Technically, it's comedy, but I found it strangely touching.

"There's a lot to live for," says Bernie, in the end. Indeed!

Bring Sexy Back, Frigidaire!

I just saw a commercial for Frigidaire refrigerators. As usual, there were lots and lots of women doing housework, smilingly. I understand why it's all women. They think women use dishwashers and washing machines and refrigerators the most, therefore they should show the women using their product.

But they've got it completely wrong.

Yes, women do more housework. But that's exactly why they shouldn't show women doing housework in their commercials. They need to show men doing housework, because that is the goddamned sexiest thing possible. Seriously. And sex sells. And who do you think decides which washing machine or freezer to buy? The women, usually. The women's greatest fantasy is to have men do all of the housework. If they showed commercials with men using their products, then women will get the message that, if they buy the products, the men will do the house work!

Take a look at these hotties - (sorry, this may not be safe for work from here on out).

Oh, yeah!


Now you're on the right track, there.
You missed a spot, Sweetie. Love ya!

Sorry. That really is a bit much.

Ellen Degeneres Reads from "Fifty Shades of Grey"

Something about this reminds me of my mother-in-law:

They Know My Secret

Today was parent/ teacher conferences. I was prancing around work in my high-heeled boots, looking snazzy in my pretty wool sweater and dress slacks, chatting up parents and feeling pretty good. That lasted about an hour- until I looked down once and noticed that I was wearing my Weight Watchers name tag.

I guess they know my secret, now. Sadly. No, my girlish figure is not entirely effortless. I attend meetings on Friday mornings.

Weight Watchers is fantastic, by the way. Highly recommended if you want to lose weight and maintain the weight loss. It's like a counseling session and a club and a group of nice people, all in one.

At least it wasn't a Narcotics Anonymous name tag.

Sex Doesn't Matter

So, this David Patraeus fellow- he has served us well. Really. I mean, I didn't agree with the Iraq war and all, but he served his country well. He's given his entire life in the service of this country.

And now, how does his country repay him? We accept his resignation because he had an affair.

I just don't get it. What does that have to do with the amazing service he has given us? How ungrateful can we possibly be, as a nation?

Dwight D. Eisenhower supposedly had an affair with his chauffeur, Kay Summersby, during WW II. No one suggested Eisenhower resign. I may be mistaken here, but I believe he had a few notable achievements, in spite of his alleged transgressions in the bedroom.

Supposedly, about one fifth of people who are married have an extramarital affair at some point. I guess we should investigate the entire married population, and if they are having affairs, make sure that they resign their jobs, before they help win a world war for us and become president. No one wants that scum around, right?

"My happiness depends entirely on finding my one true love." [Unless I'm male, and then I need to kill someone who is "evil".]

My daughter caught me yesterday. She said,

"You know those Mexican dancers at school? They had some questions about that king of the lions story, you know, acoomba mataya? I was the only one who had the book! It seems like most kids watch movies at home."


What could I say? It's true.

She has a book of The Lion King story. We don't own any Disney movies. I am well aware that most god-fearing Americans let their kids watch Disney movies all the time. I don't. It's not that I have officially banned them, we just don't do that. My grandmother gave her some books. Sometimes I change the stories a little bit when I read them to Little Z.

It's not that I hate Disney movies. It's just that I hate sexism and racism and repetitive motifs of mothers dying when their children are very young, and I hate how the "evil" people are always dark skinned and fat, and the "good" people find happiness through being impossibly skinny, wearing skimpy clothing, and finding a ridiculous "true love" who makes them "happily ever after". So, that leaves a few movies. Winnie the Pooh is good.

Consider one of my favorite childhood movies, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

1. Snow White's evil stepmother wants her dead because she's pretty (and white is basically synonymous with pretty in this movie). What does this teach a kid about how women behave?

2. Snow White goes to hide in the woods and stumbles upon a filthy cabin full of little men. Immediately, she sets about cooking and cleaning for them. WTF? These are complete strangers!

3. Look at this clip. Outwardly, if you listen to the words of the song, Snow White is dreaming of her Prince Charming- basically saying she would be happy if only this other person came and made her happy. (And we all know that our happiness rests entirely upon meeting our soul mate, right? And the other person makes us happy, right? That's a healthy belief, yes?) The funny thing is, if you really watch the first half of this scene, just enjoying the music without listening to the words, this is about a young woman completely comfortable with her own company. Look at her body language. Look at her interactions with the natural world. Snow White is absolutely content, a full person unto herself. She requires no one and nothing. She is living in the moment, enjoying her own wonderful singing abilities, experimenting with echoes in a well. Then a stranger comes out of nowhere, ruins it all, and scares the crap out of her!

And then she falls in love with this potential serial killer who just popped out of the woods.

I know this is just one movie from a long long time ago, but they really haven't changed much. Now the Disney princesses are more impossibly skinny and snottier looking.

Little Z isn't missing out. There are better things to watch.

Hall of Fame Dude, Grandpa Bob!

It's funny to read this article and hear the reading voice in my head constantly referring to my dad, a.k.a. "Grandpa Bob" or "Bob" referred to as "Lee". But, yeah, this is him! I love seeing things like this. He deserves success, for sure. My dad


Further Proof:

Bad Ass Husband owns at least two (and possibly three) of the "Bad Ass Hats":

and he looks all right in them, too. Some guys can't get away with a bad ass hat. My husband, clearly the right stuff.


Bad Assed Husband and I spent our weekend fencing in a new area for the sheep. It is sheltered from the wind by a hill on one

side and a barn on the other. This is meant to be a nicer place to spend the winter than the open field. We built it all in two days. Saturday was 67 degrees and sunny. It was lovely going. Sunday, however, it rained, and around one in the afternoon, when we were good and soaked, a cold wind came up, and that was not appreciated by us at all. We did manage to get all of our work done and get the sheep into it, all in one weekend. BAH remarked (correctly) that in spite of the cold and sheeting rain, we were quite happy. It was much better than moping inside and fretting that it was cold and rainy out. We should build a new fence every weekend!

Little Z spent an impressive amount of time entertaining herself, first playing outside on Saturday and then riding her bike around the barn with the radio playing on Sunday. She did not do it entirely without bribery, however: we took her out to ice cream both days.

Tests in Futility

Last night were the first parent/ teacher conferences for kindergarten. We went and had a nice conversation with Little Z's teacher. Little Z herself flew around the room in her red cape while we chatted.

Ms. L, the kindergarten teacher, mentioned that she had heard about our "reading lessons". It's true. I've been teaching Little Z to read at home, one lesson each evening. Little Z requested it, after she hadn't learned to read yet, two weeks into kindergarten. So, every night, we do some phonics and read a little passage together. She does most of the reading herself, which is very exciting indeed.

Ms. L said they had two assessments for reading at the beginning of the school year. One, which was not timed, she did quite well on. Another, however, she did not do so well on. Here's what happened:

The test administrator would ask her to do something, like, "Point to the word that begins with "t"", and Little Z would say something like,

"Hey! My mom has me do that, too! She gives me reading lessons, and we do that, too!"

This is how it went with most of the questions: Little Z was asked to do something reading related, and it reminded her of our reading lessons at home. She talked about our reading lessons and forgot to answer the question, or answered it after a lengthy discussion of our reading lessons.

Meanwhile, the clock was ticking.

The time was up. She didn't do well on the assessment.

The kindergarten teacher told this story with some giggles. It didn't seem like it was a big deal. I thought it was kind of funny, until I thought about it a bit too much.

Here is a list of thoughts I had about this topic:

1. Whose idea was it to give a timed test to kindergarteners?
2. What are we teaching with this test? Little Z was making connections, trying to figure out why they were asking her the specific questions that I ask her at home. She was thinking beyond the text, which is exactly what I am trying to teach my students to do in 8th grade.
3. Kids learn what they think you perceive to be important. If we test it, they will try to learn it. They want to please us. If our tests are too simple and penalize asking "why" the test is given, what are we telling them is important? Obey! Don't ask questions! Thinking is not important!
4. When are we actually ready to have timed tests? Third grade? Sixth grade? Adulthood?
5. Why is it wrong to think about the test and comment on it?
6. Little Z hasn't learned how to take tests yet.
7. Of course she should know her phonics, but why does it count against her to think about the larger questions?

A child is an organic, feeling, thinking person, and we're treating them like a product coming out of the kid factory. The process of testing is inhumane in some sense. The school becomes a kid factory. Each kid is supposed to meet certain specs: reading, check. Writing, check. Arithmetic, check. Social studies... Then we sign off on them: Inspector Number 3 passed Jenny to graduate. Congratulations! Have a great life!

If teachers were given the freedom to do their own assessments in order to aide their instruction, that would be a much better deal for the kids. This whole timed assessment of Little Z was a complete waste of time. It did not represent her knowledge or skills in the slightest. The kindergarten teacher would never have timed it, if given the choice. She would have seen the needs of the child (more time) and altered the assessment, on the spot, to better represent her needs. That's what teachers do all the time. But, because the test was handed to her by an authority, and it had rules for administering it, she was not given that freedom, and it was a complete waste of time. I've seen many children who, by the age of fourteen, become completely apathetic and give no effort whatsoever on these tests, and then end up in my reading classes because they test at below grade level in reading. The problem is not their reading, it's their complete apathy after nine years of test where they were never allowed to ask "why". Why do we have to do so many tests that ask no deep questions?

On the other end of the spectrum, many more children than ever before suffer from severe anxiety. Teachers constantly tell kids to do well on these tests, because often our job depends on the results. Wonder why kids are getting more anxious?

I could go on, but I won't!

Just when I thought I was safe...

The phone rang today, and the familiar sense of dread came upon me. But wait, I thought. It's all good. The election is over. I answered.

"Hello, I'm calling to remind you, you should have voted for Obama yesterday."
"Well... I ... Uh... That was yesterday?"
"Yes, that was yesterday! How could you forget?"
"I just... I..."
"Do you know your precinct number?"
"My number?"
"Yes, your number. It's not rocket science. It's a number!"
"No, I don't, I-"

Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is all a lie. I'm sorry that I didn't really answer the phone. I was afraid. I admit it.

I'm sorry if it was you calling.

Swedish Movie Night Surprise: Sound of Noise

Like most people who speak a foreign language but don't often get a chance to speak it, I watch movies in the language to practice. Whenever BAH goes out for the night, it's Swedish movie night. I don't much care if they're good.

Tonight, though, holy cow! This is the best movie ever. I don't even know how to describe it.The Netflix blurb says,

"In this absurdist comedy, only a tone deaf cop can stop six renegade percussionists who use their surroundings as instruments to create sonic chaos."

I first heard of it in this Cracked article. It's number 3, "The Big Heist (With No Money and Spontaneous Musical Performances)". Yes, they rob a bank and shred the money to make the perfect sound for their song.

The Swedish humor is so subtle.

The only clue to the first crime is- can you guess? A metronome.

Cop investigating at music store: "You of course keep records of the serial numbers on these?"

Music store worker: "It's a metronome."

The cop's name is Amadeus. Poor Amadeus is not just tone deaf; he hates music. He is also from a family of talented and famous musicians.

My dad would love this movie.

It's called Sound of Noise.

The Onion describes this special day:

The Onion Book Of Known Knowledge Presents:

Election, special day dedicated to celebrating the democratic process in which citizens dress in their best voting clothes, joyfully make their way to their local polling places, and, having carefully weighed the issues of the day and how they relate to the greater good, cast their ballots to change the government for the better. Since it is a national holiday, voters get Election Day off from work so they may gather with family and friends over a festive meal to engage in spirited, but respectful, discussions about the possible outcomes of the election and how it will be remembered in the larger historical context of democracy. Once a candidate is declared the winner, all voters, regardless of political affiliation, dutifully throw their support behind the newly elected official and end the day with a customary toast to government by the people, for the people.

Everyone remain calm.

Whoever wins this election, the dream that is America will continue.

Truly, though, as someone living in a swing state: For the love of god! Let tomorrow come! We can't take any more of this! I don't care if Bruce Springstein is here. At a certain point, even Bruce can't make it all better.

That poor, poor little girl.

Imagine There's No Heaven, Just The Beatles!

Some people are raised on a philosophical diet of Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, and a little bit of ye ole Holy Virgin. Not I! I was raised on The Beatles. Think not of Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John, but of John, Paul, George and Ringo, with a little Brian Epstein and George Martin sprinkled in. The first (and last!) book my father had me read was, The Love You Make. The first (and definitely not the last) album my dad bought me, on vinyl, naturally, was Abbey Road.
I have seen the movie The Rutles and understood almost every joke in it. (I still don't get the foot montage part!)

You may say I'm an atheist, but I am not in any way lacking in a mythology! And,in spite of my more recent infatuation with the Flaming Lips, I still believe that Abbey Road is the best album ever made. Argue with me! Go ahead.

My favorite Beatle is of course George. I had lost contact with my dear friend Gina for many years, and when George Harrison died, she suddenly thought of me, and looked me up! And we were reunited.

It's almost like how I keep thinking of my friend Lisa who is Mormon whenever they mention that Mittens is a Mormon.

Fancy Costumes at Public School: Bring It Back!

Dressing up for Halloween in elementary school and going to school in costume- why not? We were told it was "too distracting" and we were not allowed to dress up today. But... but... but... ?! So what? I mean, of course it's distracting. But it's the Joy of Life Standard!

We used to have this parade of costumes. We just walked around the playground in a line up with our costumes on. During the school day. I mean, yeah, it wasn't the most amazing thing ever, but I think it enhanced my life.

They're not test scores. They're kids! They deserve to have fun now and then.

Anyway, Happy Halloween! We went Trick or Treating and had a huge party, so I guess I'm all good. :) The news says that Sandy affected as far west as Wisconsin, but I didn't see it.

Sparrow gives us words of wisdom:

"It's not that politicians are liars but rather that they use lying, the way an artist employs the color yellow." -Sparrow


We went wild and had a Halloween Party yesterday. I was excited about doing it until yesterday, about three hours before, and then I wanted to die.

It all went off without a hitch, in spite of our heroine- Little Z- having a fever! (We gave her some Motrine and she was fine. Went to the doctor today and she has Periannal Strep- don't google it! It's strep throat, except the other end. There's a South Park episode waiting to be made... I actually thought the Doctor was making it up, at least for a moment. You mean she has butt strep????)

At the party:

I set up a little photo booth to capture everyone's costumes. This picture is my favorite. The little fairy is one of Little Z's best friends. They don't see each other as much as they used to, and when the Fairy came, Little Z exclaimed,

"You're so much bigger than the last time I saw you!"

I'm glad no one said that to me!

The actual purpose of the party, which was not revealed to most, was to invite Little Z's preschool teacher over. Z never gets to see her, now that she is in kindergarten, and she misses her terribly. Her ex-teacher came as a bee. Ms. Bee.

Ms. Bee stayed until Little Z was ready to go to bed, and all the other guests had gone. Z was somehow naked in the bathroom when Ms. Bee decided to leave, so BAH put a robe on her. Z came out of the bathroom, threw off the robe, ran up to Miss Bee and gave her a huge goodbye hug in only her birthday suit.