The name , Debra, means "A bee" in Hebrew, English, and Biblical baby name books. I have also seen it further described as "seeker" and "truth seeker", describing the Judge Deborah in the Bible. Maybe this is why I have always had a fondness for bees, demonstrated in my preferred choice of stationary, books, hand towels, and decorative pins. This bee fondness, has not extended to their honey product. But, I wanted to learn more about these fascinating creatures!
On this day, our book club was enjoying a 'field trip' to round out the study of Margaret Feinberg's Scouting the Divine my search for God in wine, wool, and wild honey. Arranged by our study leader, Dena, we drove 2-1/2 hours to visit Hedgerow Farm, the indescribable home of her brother's family. Our gracious host, sister-in-law, Lisa Douglas eagerly welcomed us and endured endless questions as we mined her knowledge and experience.
While one group took a carriage ride, the rest of us met Rosie, the guard and companion dog for a cow and her calf as we walked the road to the bee hives. I noticed there was one hive on the left side of the road, sheltered by trees while the remainder of the hives were grouped on the right side of the road along the tree line. I asked if these bees had done something wrong, as they appeared to be living "on the wrong side of the road". She laughed, telling me they were Russian bees, whispering the queens were nasty bitches...then she spoke of the Italian bees, which most around here descend from, and their mating habits with any drone around, some feral. There is no way the breed stays pure, which is not an objective, anyway.
After another group of carriage riders and lunch, we visited the sheep. Lisa referred to them as "Jacob sheep", the same as the sheep in the Old Testament. They were so different from the sheep we raised on our farm in North Dakota and was I used to seeing on car rides. To me, their faces were goat-like and they had horns, some two, some four. Of course, we could not get too close, being a group of 8, without them changing direction. One 4 month old sheep, Clyde, saw Lisa as Mom and clung to her at times. His sheep Mom had started butting him at birth, in rejection they feared, so Lisa had bottle-fed him. We were able to get close and feel his coat, so pretty and wavy almost to a relaxed ringlet and so soft. These type of sheep do some shedding as a natural self-shearing, but Lisa still has shearers come out to finish the job. She spoke of having to find the right shearer, who wasn't too rough with them, who took his time and was gentle. She shared how she chose names and why some were tail snubbed and some not. We learned there is a logical reason for everything and even her naming process is an aid for remembrance. The love and care for her sheep was evident in how she spoke of them and how she spoke to them. The words Gentle Shepherdess come to mind when I think of Lisa with her sheep. Of course we were given much more information than I can write here!
After walking through the orchard and gardens, pausing to admire the brickwork and hearing the story of the fences, I stopped on a fire ant home. Lisa was my deliverer! As I threw off shoes and socks she ran for the unscented ban deodorant, which I rolled all over. She then had me chew plantain leaves and spread them around my ankles. I had no problems after that. Earlier, we had rubbed lemon balm leaves on our arms and legs and squirted ourselves with lemon balm water to fend off mosquitos, which worked beautifully...things I will need to plant and use.
Up at the house, I notice a quart jar about 2/3 filled with a dark honey and asked if it was from her bees. She said it was the end of last years honey and she would give us some. (unlike some beekeepers, she only collects once a year)
Feeling brave now, I tasted some of Lisa's honey and I loved it! Like a wine, I slowly let it move around in my mouth and swallowed a melody of blends. Tasting the honey was like smelling a variety of blooms. There was not one I could identify, but all together they were a symphony in my mouth!
I have my little treasured jar in the kitchen and as my bubbles are starting to disappear, I am just wondering what a half teaspoon would do to my lavender bath, to my skin, to my senses.... "Nah!" my taste buds yell, "What a waste!" and I know I will cherish every small spoonful and work up elaborate plans when to do so and with what foods (Lisa gave me some great ideas!) and drinks, and settings, and with whom I will share....
Oh, I can't stand it! Mysteries await! I actually like honey!
