Twenty-one years ago shortly after my wife and I were married her
father drove up our driveway outside of Charlottesville, Virginia in
his old Dodge Dart.  He backed up  on the grass under a row of old
cedar trees and,  parked, went around the back of the car, opened the
trunk and.

And took out a beehive.

At the time I had absolutely no interest in bees.  Actually, I was
one of those people, the ones who classified wasps and yellow jackets
and honeybees all in the same grouping.

BEES that Sting.

After I watched him, from a distance, set up this hive in our yard
(I might add, without a veil and gloves, Bill never wore gloves)  he
went back to the car and got out a bag and gave it to me.

Inside was a smoker, a hive tool.  Gloves,  a veil and a book on beekeeping.

This, it turned out, was our wedding present from my wife's father.

"And when," he said over dinner that night, "when  you feel
comfortable being around your new hive you all can move up to the
farm and start taking care of the rest of the hives."

The next year we did move to the farm and during my summers when I
was on vacation from my job as a high school teacher,  Bill and I
would work his 100 some hives.

Well, Bill passed away a good decade ago now and I've been growing
vegetables for a living (a large CSA operation) for just as long.
But I still keep a couple dozen hives.   The honey goes into the CSA
shares, the bees help out with the pollination, and, I believe, that
that first beehive was probably one of the best wedding presents
anyone could receive.

--

Leigh Hauter

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        http://www.bullrunfarm.com

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