When I was a kid, my grandfather kept bees in the backyard of his South Carolina home under a large willow tree. It’s was a mysterious box full of things that were suppose to be horrible – bees and something that I knew was wonderful – honey.
My grandparents kept comb honey and jars of honey in their pantry and my favorite breakfast to this day is cheap biscuits out of a tube cooked in an eletric stove, smeared with butter and drizzled with raw, unprocessed honey.
My grandfather never showed me anything about beekeeping – even when I asked. That pissed me off. That unsated curiousity nagged at my brain until a few years ago I decided to talk a bit of action. A little research and a little work and I was pulling swarms out of trees.
My goal isn’t the honey. It’s to learn and help the bees. So I do everything ‘natural’. Or at least what I’m told is ‘natural’. So far that’s meant an outlay of work and money but on income of honey. The little buggers either don’t produce enough or need it for themselves to survive the winter.
Oh, well. My beekeeping blog posts are here.