Making The BuyPosted: August 8, 2012
I’d worked with Danny for several years before I found out that he was a beekeeper. It surprised me to hear it. I didn’t think that was the sort of thing you hid from folks. Maybe it isn’t. Perhaps it is a challenge to work that into a conversation.
So Danny is a beekeeper.
Beekeeping Is Cool, Despite The Hat
Beekeeping fascinates me. Perhaps the possibility that a person could be stung into anaphylactic shock by their hobby makes me look upon it with wonder. On the other hand, it could be that silly net hat.
Bees are sort of free agents. Sure, they’ve got the queen/hive/collective effort situation. That seems to keep them close to home. All the same, if an individual bee took a notion, he could choose to move on. If that bug made a go of it, and sent word back, a beekeeper could face an exodus.
Anyone can be a bee captor. Preventing that exodus by boxing the insects in is not a challenge.
Beekeepers are more than simple captors. Bees are free to leave, but beekeepers make them want to stay. Not only do the bees choose to stay, they agree to work in exchange for room and board. Working that out with a hive is no small feat. You’ve got to respect someone who can do that.
I’ve always liked Danny. If I didn’t like the guy, I would change my mind when I found out that bees like him.
The Bees Put Out
The bees must have it pretty good at Danny’s place. There are a lot of them, all working hard to make honey. Not just a bit. They make gobs of it. They are producing much more than what he needs for personal use. Danny is moving the stuff, in large quantities. His customers get a taste and come back for more, every time.
There are even restaurants buying this honey. I’m not talking about some greasy spoon diners. Think downtown gourmet type places. Fancy joints, with table cloths instead of place mats, are buying from Danny. The man and his bees are getting a big reputation.
Danny offered some of his sought after product to his co-workers – ten dollars for a quart of the stuff. The office went wild for it. Nearly everyone bought some. After endless testimonials, I became part of everyone. I made a buy from Danny.
“Do you have any left?” I asked him. He nodded and told me to follow him. It was in his locker. The door swung open to reveal a picture of his wife, and six mason jars of liquid gold just behind it. It was a cash transaction. I walked off with a quart of the stuff, he stashed the bill in his shirt.
The jar rode home in my lunch box. I held it up to the sunlight in my quiet kitchen. I never knew pure light could be improved upon until that moment.
More tomorrow! There will even be a link here.
This is the first part of my swing at a writing challenge on The Daily Post