A beehive is actually not a bee house as my limited vocabulary has required me to say all afternoon. In fact, the proper word (a new one for me) is colmena.
Doing anything that involves using tijeras (scissors) is usually fairly stress-inducing for me. I believe this was the reason I had a nightmare (pesadilla) about my mask the other night. With only one real day of class left (next Tuesday) and a desire to wear something more interesting than my own face, my nightmare delivered the inspiration of a beehive hairdo crowning a skeleton face. However, if/when I cannot get the braids to work, I (and others) recognized a potential Plan B. I can use the beehive structure and become the 266th Pope.
I asked several students the names of their masks. Two of three asked, “They need names?” I responded, “No one said that we HAVE to name them, but it seems as though they should have names.” When they asked my mask’s name, I said I would know better after I select the color of yarn. If I go Marge Simpson blue for the beehive, I will know that Marge is the name. If I go Rapunzel yellow, that makes it pretty easy, too. I could also be the bird lady, an eccentric woman in Sacramento. Plus, who knows? I may have to be Benedict the XVII.
shewhodaresnothing 