Ring, ring. My dad calling me on a sunny, perfect Saturday morning.
Dad: “What’s up, La?”
Me: “On my way to my first beekeeping meeting! What’s up with you?”
Pause. 1…….2…….3………
Dad: “You’re going to mess with bees?”
Me: “Well, it’s just always something I’ve been curious about, and I met this local beekeeper who does a type of class, so I thought I’d try it.”
Dad: Another pause. “Did you know I did that once?” My dad has an organic farm in North Carolina, where he grows amazing German Johnson tomatoes, shoots birds, and, apparently, once raised a hive.
Must be something in the genes.
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