German Guy 40 Something

An interesting question landed in my inbox — 'How is it possible? Everyone in the village is not aware of what you post.' Well now, I have to say it’s the grandest magic trick! I’m Lady Bee online, but in my village, I’m just another boring retired lady — rather uppity and a bit posh. The old girl who buys too many custard creams and talks to the roses. No one’s the wiser! And I suppose if Ted at the post office did recognise me, then he'd have to own up about his own internet Search History and his secret passion for GILFs and cougars!

And, let's face it my friends, at the age of 65 I have long reached the age where I am invisible in the street. People only stop me to ask directions these days. They see what they want: few would ever expect the lass in wellies with muddy knees sauntering to the post box or on a solo litter pick could ever be an internet siren who gets off her kit at the drop of the hat. And with a whole army of online followers with an Only Fans page too! I suppose internet fame’s like my knickers — sometimes invisible, sometimes sheer, but always there if you squint.

Do keep the questions like that coming — if they're interesting and not just 'spread em', I'd love to answer them on this page.

My Village Veil

Invisible cloak — My fame filtered through hedges, Petals hide the sting. They greet me with “morning, dear,” Never suspecting the buzz.

Lady Bee

Out and about in the bone dry garden today — grass crackling underfoot, marigolds drooping like me after a particularly wild Saturday (distant memory though that is). I’m armed with a watering can and the urge to bare all (well, nearly) for a rain dance. If flashing the neighbours gets me a shower, so be it — my begonias are begging for moisture and the lawn’s about as brown as my last attempt at baking. Should I go full Monty for the sake of the hydrangeas? Someone fetch the hose and a pair of sunglasses, please!

Tanka: Dry Spell, Bare All

Parched garden, bold skin—

daring limbs plead for rainfall,

summer thirst revealed.

Lady Bee twirls, cheek on show—

will clouds blush and rain below?

How is the summer vanishing so fast, scorching garden and all? I blink and suddenly we’re at the end of July, my sunhat tossed aside, and here I am—still baring all at 65. I once thought I was ancient doing this malarkey at 49, gingerly unclasping my bra for the camera, convinced my best bits were already heading south. Now, I marvel at wrinkles multiplying in places even the mirror can’t find, and the mysterious, quiet surrender of parts no one mentioned in biology. Who knew HD photography would be quite so, well, revealing? Yet I wouldn’t trade this wild caper for any lost summer — there’s sheer delight in filming the journey, wobbles and all. Here’s to laughing at gravity and outpacing the calendar! And if it moves you at all (you know what I mean)... then go ahead, be my guest, enjoy!

Haiku: Age in Bloom

Soft petals wrinkle,

summer’s flash bare and daring—

camera catches joy.