“The Urban Farmer” has a nice ring to it. I saw his eyes light up the first time I referred to him as that in writing- his passion and his future wrapped neatly in one moniker. “Fat Paw” on the other hand…
As we nestled into our cozy living room one evening recently, the enormity of his hand caught my eye. It looked like a rubber glove inflated with air, expanding in every direction, threatening to burst. “The bees were pisssssssed,” he offered as an explanation, and that’s how “Fat Paw” came to be, much to his chagrin.
Honey, the gift of the beekeeper, is a gift unlike any other (except maybe childbirth?) in terms of time, commitment, risks, pain, affection, stickiness and constant cleanup. This year, the Urban Farmer… ahem… Fat Paw was able to harvest enough honey to sell locally. It was a major milestone, trumped only by this Christmas accomplishment- we were able to give honey to his extended family. A gift like that deserved a little gussying.
If you still have winter gifts to create, give these a whirl, or if a beekeeper gives you a gift of honey, thank him or her for suffering all those stings because the result is ever so sweet!