Christmas Crafts

Time! I had a bit of time today. A miracle, yes, for those who know me.

So I ...

made Chex mix (cayenne style)

made fudge (full sugar)

made a gift I saw in a magazine a while back

prepped an owl I have been painting for my sister's June birthday (see? I don't have time most days to create). LAST June...

made gift tags with stamping and embossing; glittered clothespins for gifts and decorations

listened to the Seahawks smash the opposition

watched snow fall outside

enjoyed the gift of time

Macaroni and Gold Spray Paint

As I noticed my last post date, it came to mind that time is slippin, slippin, slippin, into the pa-ast. (Not the future.) WHERE does time go?

One reason is the Season. Merry Christmas!

Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year. I just have to learn to delegate, delete, or delight in my choices of activities. The to-do list seems to get eerily long this time of year. Especially at school.

So, gift number one, almost complete, from students to parents, is an old stand by. Classic actually, I remember making something similar in 4th grade. We worked hours gluing dry pasta onto a sleigh we had put together from cardboard. They had to have been quite gaudy. But the piece de resistance was the gold spray paint. Voila! Beauty for ever. (Where did it go, oh sleigh of mine? The way of all 60's - 70's Christmas craft gifts, I suppose.)

Jump to the 2012's gaudy gift remake. $1 wooden frames from Michael's, several boxes of different shaped noodles, gobs of craft glue, and glossy gold spray paint. Again, voila! All we need to do is add the photos, which have just been ordered online (definitely NOT the 70's technology) and will be ready, not tomorrow, but the next day, due to the Christmas rush.

I'm sure the parents will love the glistening gold surrounding the faces of adored kinders.

Just wait until you see the photo for our President Brie round cheese wheel box Baby Jesus/Nativity gift. Lovely.

Joyeux Noel!

Jesus On a Motorcycle

(My view on the motorcycle.)

Riding on a motorcycle is so much more REAL than riding in a car. Don't get me wrong. I love the comfort of heat, AC, CD player, cushy seats, windshields, wipers, and seat belts. And a full-size trunk.

But on a motorcycle the rider truly experiences the ride. We just arrived home from a long drive up past Ronald, Washington. November 4th cements the fact that it was cold. Quite cold. There had been recent rain, so not only was it cool, but damp.

Oh, so beautiful, despite the damp and cold. We missed the prime colors, but there were still enough bright yellow leaves on the trees and roadway. I noticed, as I clung to the teensy back seat, how much more I experienced on a motorcycle than in a car. Fall and forest smells wafted through my helmet vents. Droplets splashed up on my legs. Warm and cold air pockets were clearly felt. Sights and sounds were vivid, even if I did occasionally fog up my visor. There was AC, lots of it. My windshield was Kevin. It was all so much more real and I felt like a part of nature, as opposed to just passing through while in my car.

(The view of what we just passed - looking backwards.)

I sat on the back, nursing my backside by shifting forward and back (it IS hard to hang on when your bum in numb), and had plenty of time to think. And talk loudly to myself (in my head). It hit me that Jesus rode a motorcyle to come to Earth. Not literally, of course. Metaphorically.

There He was, up in Heaven, checking out what we were doing. And then God sent Him to us, as a tiny baby. He didn't just cruise through, inside a car (again, metaphorically), but was on a motorcycle. He totally embraced being human. He smelled the smells, felt the weather and temperatures, heard the people, and interacted with nature. Jesus truly experienced the ride, as no one else in history could ever experience life.

What was I missing as I rode on the motorcycle way back? The security of a seat belt, especially at 70 mph.

Jesus did it all, the whole nine yards, without a seat belt. I'm glad He didn't stay cocooned up in Heaven, but gave us the benefit of His once in history ride. He didn't pass on through with the speed on cruise, but grabbed the handle bars with both hands and gave us all He had.

Jesus. The Motorcycle Guy.

(Me, looking in the rear view mirror, taking photos.)

The Powers of Persuasion

The husband has great powers of persuasion. So much that I get annoyed at him trying to persuade me to jump on his idea (or plan or feelings or thoughts). But he doesn't always win.

Last night, Papa tried to use the power of suggestion with Haydster.

"I want to watch," (looks at me), "What did I say?"

Me: "Finding Nemo."

Papa: "I want to watch Finding Nemo."

Haydster: "How about...CARS?" (This DVD has been almost worn through by constant use.)

Papa: "No, I don't want to."

Haydster: "I do."


No go for Papa. CARS it is.

Powers of persuasion fail to a three-year old.

Snow

I love children. Especially my grands.

"Look, Nana, it has snow!"

Hardly, for us, since we are barely experiencing fall like weather.

But to my boy, a three year-old, Dusty Miller's certainly appear to be covered with snow.

As we continued to chase and play in the front yard, I taught him how to be a wheelbarrow. Which I may soon wish I had not. For now, he loves it. So much, that when he left, no, he didn't want to walk normally to the truck. Just, "Barrow wheel me, Nana."

Up close and personal with nature. And life.

Songs in a 5 Year-old World

"Did you ever see a whale, with a polka dot tail? Down by the bay..."

"I'm a little teapot, short and stout."

"Head and shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes, Eyes and ears (poke self in eyes), and mouth and nose,..."

"The eency weency spider, Hey, that's now how we sing it at home."

"The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell, Remember, so and so was the cheese!"

"Do the Going on a Bear Hunt song again."

"Can we sing the fast Mr. Sun?"


The Wheels on the Bus, The Alphabet Song, The Vowel Chant, The Freeze, Aikendrum, ...

And don't forget Pete the Cat was walking down the street...

But our recent favorite has been God's Not Dead. Repeated. Repeated. Repeated. Once a voice hums even a slight hint from the song, the words pop out, and 9 little voices join the fun.

I guess, if God's Not Dead is a favorite song, things are going pretty well in kindergarten.

Hot Mama Blanket Solution

I am definitely, DEFINITELY, enjoying the big M. Menopause. Which really means, MEN, O, you better PAUSE before you think you can snuggle with me.

That's because I am hot. All the time. The internal thermostat is up in the red zone and rarely drops to a comfortable level. Long has it been since the hubby has been able to snuggle his ice cold toes against me, let alone drape an arm around me while I sleep. Honestly, it takes less than 10 seconds, and I feel a heat rush arriving on the wings of the furnace fairy, and I am throwing off the covers, the husband, the cat, the pajamas...It's not pretty.

Hmmm. What to do for my freezing Popsicle husband? We do love the windows and screen door open at night. (If you are a bad guy and want to sneak in since now you know we have the door open at night, we ALSO have a giant attack trained dog. Beware.)

So I came up with a great solution. He can stay somewhat warm. I can have the fans on me and stick my legs and arms out of the covers at will. Which I do. Multiple times each night. The other night, he was laughing at me. He got up for a midnight nature call and came back to bed. It had to be in the 50's in our room. There I was, ON TOP of the covers, with barely enough covering me to be G rated.

Check out the BLANKET solution for HOT MAMA's. Kind of like the idea.

Just fold over which blankets spike your internal oven and tuck them all on his side of the bed. My side has only a sheet, thin cotton blanket, and sometimes the coverlet (which is removed for the photo).

Oh, yes. Problem solved. For now.

Spicy Pickled Green Beans

Can she really can?

I did it. It's been YEARS since I home canned anything. I've dehydrated and frozen many, many things, but canning has been non-existent. Totally lacking.

Lacking, so much so, that I had to purchase a new canning pot as well as basic tools and jars.

But, in spite of the lengthy process of gathering supplies and picking, cleaning, and prepping the green beans, I am pleased.

In 2 weeks, it's taste test time. Maybe I'll wait a bit longer, just to make sure. Then we will see if I should still be happy with the results.

It just occurred to me that the entire process is called canning. But no cans are involved. Just glass jars. I've actually never seen people at home do any type of canning (with real cans). Of course, we can buy canned produce at the store, but I don't think that's a home option.

So. I home jarred spicy pickled green beans.

What Boys Bring for Show and Tell

Enter the current class of kindergartners. All boys.

Today, first up for show and tell was a flat, dried out, and very dead frog.

Yummers.

Add a video game character card.

Plus a Luke Skywalker transformer.

That was it. No cute little somethings or live animals (there was a live Beta fish last week) or plants or nature things (except the dead frog).

This is going to be one interesting year.

What composes a traditional English breakfast?

Another exciting event at the Olympics is my favorite...eating.

Our home away from home, the High Leigh Conference Centre, supplied patrons with a traditional English breakfast every morning. Judging by photos and advertisements around London, the traditional breakfast is very, well, traditional.

For instance, meat is a permanent food group in breakfast.

Like huge pieces of ham (similar to bacon, but larger like sliced ham) and pork sausage. Very tasty. I would have loved some spicy mustard to dip the sausage in.

Also included, as in many British meals, is potato rounds. I would call them medallions. They do need ketchup, which was not available.

Scrambled eggs, hot tea (with milk and sugar, mmmm), coffee (yes!), and pastries are another menu item.

Surprises? Definitely.

Mushrooms. Whole, button type, cooked and in a light butter (?I think) sauce. I could only eat 2. Breakfast and mushrooms do not work for me.

Stewed tomatoes. Hmmm. I tried, really, I did. I gagged down one. Again, breakfast and stewed tomatoes do not go with me. Any other meal, serve me a big spoonful.

Beans. Like pork and beans, but I didn't see any pork (except the ham and sausage). I didn't even bother to try these. It was too 'dinner-like.'

All in all, a very filling, long-lasting meal. Odd, partially, but tasty.

I'd go back and have another go in a second.

Let There Be Light!

Hooray! Let there be light in the previously very dark Quantrell kitchen.

After previously mentioned blog topics (as in, the old, but very new and installed by former owner) where multiple ceiling lights in the kitchen and dining area fell from the ceiling, the Quantrell's have been living with a small table lamp perched atop the fridge, a can light over the sink, and one more way down the galley kitchen. Cooking and cleaning were a challenge at any time of day, particularly worse at night.

Ta-da. The man came through when he took on a Labor Day (haha, he labored) project to install four can lights.

Uh-huh. That's what I'm talking about.

Next would be fixing the ceiling holes from previous falling light fixtures and adding track lighting down the center.

Come on seasons. We are now ready for fall and winter low light.

Alas. Now we can also see how dirty things really are. Time to fess up and spring, I mean fall, clean.

Warning: Brain Connection Speed is Lacking

"You'll have to forgive my friend, you see, he's a little slow." (Name that movie - with my approximation of a quote.)

I felt like that. After I returned home from London and the Olympics.

One day, early on in our trip, before too many gold medals had been won, a funny thing happened on the way to the Tower Bridge area.

(People everywhere!)

As we were traveling in the Underground, I was trying to get the attention of 2 of our ladies to make sure they were aware that we would soon disembark (the train was crowded and one needs to move fast to make the cut, or get stuck IN the train until the next stop). They couldn't hear me, so I asked one woman, neatly dressed, in great physical condition and who I was SURE I knew from somewhere, if she could tap the ladies and get their attention for me. She did, with an odd look on her face. I gave directions to the ladies. When we got close to the stop, I again, asked the lady to tap their shoulders (I guess the two were busy visiting...). The (still familiar, but where had I seen that face?) woman again helped me out. With her help, we did all exit the train at the appropriate stop.

Many days and medals later, back home, as I watched a morning news show, I saw that lady. Honey, come quick...duh.

She was Misty May-Treanor...just the gold medal winner of beach volleyball, several times over. If only my brain was working! (Forgive her, she's a little slow, I heard myself telling myself.) Could've gotten a photo with her.

Obviously I didn't remember her name, face, and Olympic occupation until later. She had to have wondered which rock I was living under to not make the connection, since I was obviously American. And going to the Olympics. In London.

Sigh.

Olympic Tale of Two Kisses

I did go to London to meet people and celebrate the Olympics with several million of my best friends. Mission accomplished.

Did I see Wills or Kate? No. Harry? Camilla? Charles? The Queen? No.

I did meet wonderful people from many countries and walks of life. It was fabulously entertaining.

And surprising.

We spent many hours (literally) on public transportation engaging in conversation with fellow travelers. One fun 'job' was to give out pins that said More Than Gold. Each pin was decorated with colors that told the plan of salvation and could be accompanied with a souvenir Olympic booklet that explained the colors and offered other Olympic tidbits of information. I tried to share my More Than Gold pins with individuals with whom I had a deeper conversation.

One morning, on the way in to London, two of us engaged a couple and a single man on the Tube. There were many around us. In fact, the train was quite full. But this trio was very interested to know what we were doing. After the introductory conversation centering on Olympic events and who was going where, they started asking questions.

To shorten the tale, the man seated one seat over from me, same side of the train, received a More Than Gold pin from me, as well as a souvenir book. He was very pleased. But he was also worried that he had nothing to give me in exchange. Which did not bother me, as we were to GIVE away the pins, not trade them.

Not satisfied with my free gift, he grabbed me and planted a big smoochy kiss on my cheek.

There, now he had given me something. He felt better. In fact, he felt so good, he opened his brown paper sack, pulled out his beer, opened it, and began to noisily enjoy it. Much to our interest in how legal that was in the train (and in the morning???). He was bringing the party to London, the Olympics, and our train car. A right jolly fellow.

While in London, I received not one, but two kisses.

The location of ministry for my group was perfect. Smack dab in the middle of the tourist area next to the River Thames, complete with a backdrop of the Tower Bridge and proudly displayed Olympic rings. (Side note: It was fascinating to watch the rings fold up and the bridge rise to allow ships safe passage.)

One afternoon I was busily painting faces. The first question people always asked, as they hovered and watched, was, "How much?"

After they discovered the price - FREE - they happily joined the queue and gathered other group members to join them. This was repeated constantly, as long as the clown, Happy Hearts, was entertaining and chatting and creating balloon sculptures.

The second (or perhaps third) question that was asked was, "Why?"

As in, "Why are you taking your time and painting on the faces of so many strangers in a land that is not your home? Why?"

My partners and I were joyful to answer that we were happy to paint faces and just wanted to tell them that God loved them.

The responses to that statement were varied. Some continued to question and discuss, some changed the subject, and others commented on the sacrifice, but all were pleased that we were performing this public service.

One older woman approached me with the same question. How much? And later, as I was painting a Union Jack on her arm and teasing her that she could fool her friends with her tatoo, she asked why.

"God loves us, and God loves you. We want to tell you that God loves you," I said.

"I believe," she said, "in God."

"Oh," I answered. "Where do you go to church?"

"I'm Greek orthodox," she said.

And we continued to have a warm and intimate conversation.

As I finished her arm painting, she was overwhelmed with emotion. Tiny dabs of tears appeared in her eyes. She pulled me up, I thought for a hug.

Instead, she grasped my arms and pulled me close, kissing me on both cheeks. Kisses of spiritual connection.

Two kisses (or three, if you count both cheeks in the last kiss). Totally different heart reactions and spiritual climates.

The Tub

It's back - finally!

My early (but oh so late, since the end of March at the refinishers) birthday present is complete with its new coat of finish. Perched on the tiled platform (it had to be raised for drainage), my 1926 claw foot tub is ready for cold weather, warm baths, and scented bubbles.

First, of course, it needs the drain and a hook up, as noticed by little Bubba. "What's that?" he asked, looking at the empty drain hole.

Point taken.

First, a drain and water connection. Then I shall soak and enjoy.

After the grands are removed.

Tales from the Olympics ~ The Bad News

Fresh from the Olympics. Well, almost fresh. Let's just say I'm home and my brain is on its way to join me.

What an excellent adventure and experience!

The group I was with stayed at the High Leigh Conference Center in Hoddesdon, next to Broxbourne. We were not directly in the busy part of London, but out a ways, a good 25 minute train ride. Let's all say a big Amen. Returning home each evening was very relaxing as we left the hustle and bustle to go to a peaceful centre surrounded by greenery.

The bad news was our connection to the Underground system was at Stratford. That's also where the Olympic stadium is located. And the Westfield Mall. And the Athlete's Village. And the Olympic Village.

Each of the above mentioned items is enough on its own to draw a crowd. But add them all together - mmmm - a very big crowd. Most of the time. Especially in the Underground and train station.

So, the bad news was:

~ CROWDS streaming through the train and subway system
~ CROWDS on many of the Underground trains (like your face in someone elses' armpit crowds, humidity and temperature rates of sauna strength and over 100 degrees in the crowded cars)
~ CROWDS at the mall, where tourists, athletes, teams, locals, bobbies, volunteers, employees, news people, transportation workers...ALL filled the mall areas. In fact, us regular folks could not get into the mall until after 5:00 PM, unless we had a ticket for an event.
~ CROWDS

But WAIT. There's more!

The good news was:
~ CROWDS. Despite the crowds, everything flowed very smoothly. Everything. (Even when several of our ladies fell backwards on the escalators with their luggage, taking out an innocent traveler and resulting in being checked out by first aiders - all on Day 1).
~ A multi level food court with plenty of choices and plenty of tables and chairs (amazingly enough)
~ A plethora of shopping choices
~ An M&S grocery market and several drugstores (like Boots), so any needs could be found
~ Olympic cheer and energy throughout the mall and train stations
~ Plenty of PINK signs pointing the way to the Olympic stadium
~ More than I can count transportation workers and volunteers (wearing pink/purple) filling all venues. You could not get lost if you tried. With the slightest look of confusion, several were ready to get you on your way.
~ The mall was crowded with athletes and team members. They made it easy to figure out where they were from by wearing their uniforms, which usually named the home country along the back. Watching and hunting athletes was a great past time.
~ The Underground and railways were also ripe with athletes, visitors, and locals. Our time spent on transportation (probably close to 2 hours a day) were wonderful opportunities to visit and share with others.

One could easily complain about all the challenges and crowds, but they so easily turned into excitement and fun. So why waste the energy?

London did a fabulous job hosting the Olympics.

Humiliation

Yes, I do admit. It would be perfect in slow motion.

Looking cute in my summer brown skirt. Walking up to the store door to pick up my Rx for possible pink eye (just in case, thanks to my little Bubba). A slight breeze, not too bad, was blowing.

Suddenly, a huge gust did a Marilyn Monroe on my skirt. Gasping, I grabbed my skirt back down, only to step off my shoe, twist my ankle, and fall flat on the sidewalk RIGHT in front of the door to Shopko!

Uh-huh. Fastest recovery and standing up ever witnessed by human eyes. Forced myself to walk without limping or looking for observers...although the big rig driving six feet away was a sure bet to have seen the excitement. (Were those people inside Starbucks actually staring AT me and laughing, or was that my imagination???)

Now I am nursing a large elbow rasberry, a sore ankle, and a weird pain in my hip joint?

Watch out, London. Here comes danger.

The Best Salad Spinner

I've found it. The best salad spinner. At $2.99, you can't argue with the price.

IKEA has this neat little, light weight, easy to use and turn, salad spinner. I used it recently to spin dry my basil before I filled the dehydrator.

Incidentally, I love the small stature of my dehydrator. Just enough space to fill in a short time (instead of hours of work to fill the older, ginormous one I used to have).

Happy harvesting!

The Oddest Thing

Due to the aforementioned finch invasion, last summer's crop of sunflower seeds were sprung far and wide. I did not plant any at all this year. I just seriously ripped out hundreds where I did not want sunflowers. Sorry birdies!

What is interesting is where several plants survived! Of course, they are thick as thieves where they were planted last year. Alas, none of the deep burgundy ones...

This one particularly is cool. It sprang up in the hole of an old brick. "Ok," I said. "Let's see how this turns out."

I still don't know how it will be, say, in October, but for now, it
is tight as a lug nut in the center of the brick hole and the roots are shoving the brick out of it's place and up off the ground. What's next?

I hope the brick doesn't break. But that's a chance I'm willing to take.

All in the name of experiments. I love garden experiments.

C'est Fini - Fastbook Fast is Over!

Wow. July was a long month in terms of no Facebook. Not that I spend oodles of time on it, but with 3 family reunions, and the majority of planning for 2 taking place on Facebook...Let's just say some challenges were overcome. And I missed sending birthday wishes to my friends overseas and out of state.

I did stay gone and worked hard to connect by phone, email, and in person. I actually had a few coffee dates, phones calls, and scheduled some get-togethers. That was nice.

But for those people of whom I have no other contact information except Facebook - that put a twist in my knickers. I can say that because I leave for London tomorrow. Which is one thing that was hard - connecting with my international buddies in hopes of meeting in person. Now I have one day (and they are sleeping right now) to connect!

Well, there was this one time. I was checking all my electronics and their compatibility for European plug adapters. My brother was checking, actually, while I was trying to find our church page, Amplify, and get him on it so he could add photo updates. INNOCENT! He handed me his Ipad (which was too cool to count). It was already on Facebook.

"Oh, look at those cute pictures!" I said. "AAAHHHHHH! I'm Facebook fasting! I'm not supposed to be on Facebook."

Too late. Sucked in, just like a a tourist at a time-share presentation.

Not to give short shift to my FB fasting, but I am heading to the Olympics tomorrow. Not actually the Olympic events, but a conference and then hanging out around Olympic venues. Gotta get this thing organized.

So, I did learn the true value of Facebook. It's connecting with family and friends. The ease of contact is wonderful. Games? Nah. Applications? Nah. Fluff? Nah. Pictures? You bet.

Just connecting with people. Real people.

Goldfinch Guys

Just out taking my family for a little flight to see the sights in the Barge-Chestnut Neighborhood. Nothing big.

Stopped off at this little diner along 30th. I don't know who the cook is, but she had a fabulous feast of sky high seeds. Quite an assortment to choose from. I kind of liked the little shady seats, but the kids kept running over to the sunny parts. Hope we didn't bother too many. Kids! You know how messy they get.

I'm talkin' SEEDS. I couldn't get enough of those babies. Fresh, still in the pods, hanging high...the kids loved the sides of bugs that were resting under the tables. I'm telling you, take your clan and have a stop. Cool, clear water straight from the fountain, and an all-you-can-eat buffet!

Perfect for our growing family of six.

See you there!

Sweet Potatoes and Snot

Somebody has a cold. Some two-bodies have a cold.

And Nana says thank you.

First, the loving wipe of the face(s) across my dark purple shirt, snuggles and loves. And translucent strings of snot. Repeat.

Add sweet potato covered chubby hands grabbing my booger-ed dark purple shirt. Orange hand prints mixed cleverly with smears of dried goo.

That's ok. Nana loves her babies. The shirt will wash. The babies will wash. Nana will wash.

Still, Nana says, "Die, germs, die!"

The Monkey

I remember the book as plain as day.

My Little Monkey. I think I still have it hiding around the house or at school. It's the one I read to my daughter when she was a toddler. BECAUSE she was my little monkey. She climbed everything and got into everything and terrorized her brother over everything.

Haha. Paybacks. She now has her own little monkey.

For instance, just two days ago, our newest member of the monkey family took advantage of an empty high chair. Papa was standing less than 1 foot away. And suddenly there she was, standing ON TOP of the high chair seat. After scaling up the outside bars and crawling over the top arm rest!

(Notice the monkeys' chair on the table, a place where we can safely lock her in for a meal!)

What are we to do? We can't take our eyes off of this little monkey, not even for a second.

What goes around, comes around, mommy - daughter of mine.

Sometimes you just have to smile. And then move really fast to rescue the monkey.

Overgrown

I'm sure I've posted a similar recipe last summer. But I can't help it.

I found a hidden, unnoticed, overgrown zucchini this afternoon. Yay! Time for zucchini boat lunch. This time, with a south of the border twist.

Mexican Zucchini Boats

1 overlarge fat zucchini, cut in half lengthwise, center scooped out
1 c. cooked instant brown rice
olive oil
1/2 onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 lime, juiced
1 15-oz. can black beans, drained and rinsed
1 15-oz. can diced stewed tomatoes
1 tsp. fresh ground black pepper
1 T. cumin
1 tsp. no-salt seasoning mix
1/2 tsp. crushed red peppers
1 tsp. oregano
1 c. shredded cheese (pepper jack and cheddar)
Salsa (optional)

Heat oven to 400. Cover cookie sheet with foil and place prepped boats on top.

In sauce pan, saute onion and garlic in olive oil until soft. Add lime juice, black beans, tomatoes, and spices. Cook together until hot and bubbling.

Spread a layer of cooked rice inside each boat. Mound a layer of bean/tomato mixture on top of rice. Cover with shredded cheese.

Bake 30 minutes, or until zucchini is soft and cheese is crispy brown.

Serve with salsa.

Zesty yumminess!

(Serves two or four - depends on how hungry you are and how large the zucchini boats are at the end.)

(prepped zucchini boats)

(ready to bake)

Bee Hotel

I don't know why.

Can you see them, all huddled along the edge?

A close up, but I was standing on the rocker swing...a bit blurry!

There is a certain type of bee who loves my sunflowers. Not too unusual in itself.

What is odd is how several of them bunch up around the edges and spend the night...

Why? They are not the common everyday honey bee, nor the bumble bee, nor any type of wasp. That's it as far as how much I can identify bees.

I'm glad they are pollinating and gathering nectar. Just curious about why they like the little sunflower slumber parties.

Still, I'll admire from a distance. Stingers are intact.