What's the Buzz?

I don't know how it all began, really....this connection to the bees. I remember being a toddler in West Hempstead, NY and my best (and only friend) Eddy McGrath and I ran around my yard with little baggies playing Jungle Boy and Jungle Girl....trying to catch "bees" in our baggies. I know we caught something. Were they really bees? Eddy, are you out there? Do you know?

We had lots of big, furry bumblebees in our yard....something I miss greatly here in South Florida. They're so comforting to see when I travel....a link to times gone by.

But honeybees? I'd have to thank my ex-father-in-law, Wesley Sherwood Bessell. He kept bees when my husband was a boy. And so, when we had our own young family, Michael, my husband, got us a couple of beehives from an old beekeeper named Clyde. 

We harvested twice a year, I think, and it was always on the hottest of days when the backbreaking labor was hard to take... but the honey was sweet enough to make it all worthwhile.  We jarred it up and sold it to a couple of local supermarkets. And I remember putting cinnamon sticks into a couple of jars to make a spiced honey.

The bees were symbolic of our idyllic, pastoral, pure and perfect post-hippie lifestyle. Babies, bees, a garden and chickens. We had no idea how innocent we were.

But it was all to change....

Being State registered beekeepers, we had inspections. And....we had mites. We were directed, commanded really....to treat the mites with a pesticide that had been hurriedly approved by the EPA in order to address the sudden onslaught of mite infestations that were destroying bee colonies throughout the US in a rapid fashion.

Our world was so pure. So was our honey.Harvesting honey was such hard work, It seemed ludicrous to do all of that work and risk the possibility of pesticide contamination. At that time quite a lot of honey showed up with unsafe amounts of chemical residues from the pesticide in question.

Yet, if we did not treat the bees, we would be required to destroy the hives.

As far as I knew, we were still wondering what to do.....

And then, one day as I finished the dishes, I looked out in horror to see my ex-husband all suited up, pouring gasoline on the hives, and before I could even interpret the scene, it all went up in flames.

Such is the price of being street legal and wanting to be pure. Thus ended our first chapter of beekeeping. And my ex.....he was never the same. He loved those bees.