Bee Still My Heart!

     (Editor's Note: Some weeks get more backed up than others; this was one of those weeks. With gardens coming in, new fencing underway, not to mention new births, the ongoing saga of Hix and TJ...blogging took a back burner for a few while I caught up with myself, which is why you see a few empty dates prior to this post. If I post an empty blog date, it means I plan to fill in blanks (key word: plan) You may want to scroll backwards from time to time as I'm no longer living in linear time/space at least when it comes to the blog.)

That said...
     Let the BEES begin...

My first honey! How pretty is this?
(It's honey-filled honey comb, so heavy it's falling into the broiler  pan beneath)

     To BEE clear, you don't harvest honey your first year out; beekeepers know this. I am learning. But BEEcause I wanted to know just how my honey was tasting, I asked Miss Margaret, my Master Beekeeper if I could sample the stuff...(Patience not being my long suit.)
   

Who can spot the problem with this picture?
Also titled: Why Blondes Should Not Do Bees!

For the record, I got stung. TWICE. First stings ever and they hurt like heck, but hey, at least I won't have arthritis in my hands. I was so excited I failed to suit up/glove up and I'm sure my energy was far from calming to bees, who, heretofore, have been BEE-having BEE-utifully. (Ok. I'll stop now; clearly the honey has taken hold).
     Because (oh so tempting) I wanted to know step-by-step how to gather honey the old fashion way, Miss Margaret walked me through it, pulling an entire comb (which was quite full) and bringing it inside. (You have to do this rather quickly, as the bees will follow you in if you're not careful. It's their honey, after all. They call it "robbing the hives" for a reason.)
     Safe and secure in the confines of my (not commercial) kitchen, Miss Margaret asks if I have cheese cloth. (I do not.) Might I have old panty hose? (Strangely, I do, though I wasn't sure but if they hadn't dry rotted, given nobody wears pantyhose anymore, and I've certainly had no need for them since farming, save for now, when we need 'em to mesh the honeycomb out.)
     Taking turns at the mesh (she was quite good at it; I was quite messy at it; and Pat meshed the best) I was elated to find we pressed an entire QUART! The comb, we next melted in a double boiler; (More on all these steps later.) The crystals in the main jar, having set overnight, have now risen to the top, where we will separate them out.
     I was likewise told what they look for when judging honey it at the fair. (Oddly, it's by color; I'm told it's not a taste-judging competition, which I find odd, but will CLEARLY do more research.)
     In short, it was a day to BEE-hold. (Sorry. It slipped in.)
     To those who tolerate me and my endless questioning mind, just know I am grateful. (Glad someone around here has patience.)