The Brits and The Bees

We've had a new species buzzing around these parts over the last week or so . . .

. . . no, not these guys. Although these guys have been getting inordinately intoxicated on all the pollen we offer them . . . for free. Look at him, covered head to, er, tail? with all that delicious pollen . . .

No, these guys.

The Brits were in town. In their bitchin' rig.

We met up with them here and there, hither and yon . . .

. . . at Captain Scott's . . .

Aren't they cooooote??

And we had a lovely send-off for Auntie Sylv, whose actual send-off was in England, where none of us were.

But we were all together on City Pier in *New* London . . .

. . . and it was lovely and moving and emotional.

Rest in peace, Auntie Sylv.

There were beach shenanigans . . .

. . . and there were pub shenanigans . . . 

. . . oh, there were plenty of pub shenanigans . . . 

Legal!

 . . . and there was, apparently, lots of painting and artistry. By painters and artisans.

And then in one second the week was over and off they went. Just like that.

Bye-bye Brits

At least the bees stuck around.