By DELMAR LEATHAM
When my wife and I were first married we made an attempt to raise bees. There was a Sears catalog store on main street where you could purchase farm equipment as well as all the needs of an aspiring beekeeper. We picked out a hive along with all the basic tools. We also chose a 3-pound box of bees that included a queen.
I set the hive up near a gully that led to the river, installed the bees in their new home and retired to my easy chair to await the fall honey harvest. A flood came and washed my hive away.
I told my wife “You’re only a failure if you quit.”
So, the following spring I purchase a new hive and an additional box of bees. I set them up on a hill where they would be safe from flood waters. Every week I checked on them to see how they were doing.
One weekend I found the hive empty. All the bees were gone. A skunk had sat in front of the hive and eaten every bee. So, I said to my wife “You’re only a failure if you quit.”
The next spring I purchased a new hive and a box of bees. I built a small table to place the hive on so it would not be on the ground. I placed the hive and table beneath a large palm tree at the end of an alfalfa field.
That palm tree was struck by lightning and the flaming fronds fell down and burned up my entire hive, including the table and all my equipment.
The message was clear, the Lord had other plans for me that did not include beekeeping.
Some 20 years later I told the same story over the pulpit at church. I was hoping to send a message that sometimes we need to listen to a higher power.
The next Saturday as I was working in my garden. Local beekeeper, Lloyd Marshall, pulled up in his pickup.
He said to me, “I’m here to lift the curse.”
He had two beehives in the back of his truck. One of the hives contained yellow bees with black stripes. The other hive contained black bees with yellow stripes. Perhaps one of the hives was dyslexic. They were all good workers and produced a fine crop of honey.
As we set up the hives, we discussed the benefits of honey. In ancient times honey was used on open wounds to prevent infections. Lloyd had a man who came every year to buy 20 live bees. The man periodically stung himself with a bee to ease the pain of his bursitis. I’m not sure what was worse, the sting or the bursitis. Maybe it just felt better when it was all over.
Some people believe that eating local honey will help with allergies. If this were true we could treat an alfalfa allergy by drinking milk. Bees gather the nectar and honey from flowering plants rather than the plants that produce allergies.
Thanks to Lloyd I was able to harvest 20 pounds of honey in the fall of that year. I decided I would make some pomegranate honey to sell. I boiled the pomegranate juice until it was a thick syrup. I added 2 gallons of honey to the syrup and then left it on the stove at a low simmer.
I went outside to work in the yard. After an hour I decided to check on my bubbling brew. To my dismay the honey mixture had boiled over and was running down the stove. I spent the next two hours cleaning up the sticky mess. For months afterwards honey would ooze from the oven door. Needless to say, I was on the hook for a new stove.
Still, you’re only a failure if you quit.
Unfortunately, the next time I was harvesting honey I accidentally tipped over a hive. The bees stung the neighbor’s horse and the rider. The bees stung my wife and my dog. The bees stung me through my bee suit. It was obvious to me that the bees were very angry and unhappy. I suppose you would be unhappy too if someone stole your honey and nectar.
In the last year or so, I found out that one of my grandchildren was allergic to bee stings. I made the wise decision to give my bees away along with all of my equipment. Now I rely on the kindness of strangers and their bees to supply me with honey.
Just as a sidenote, it takes 12 bees their entire lives to produce one teaspoon of honey.
