Friday, March 23, 2007

honey - a parable

My father whom I love, and have talked about a few times here,
would mix up "honey-butter" and we would spread it on our toast.
It was heaven to my young mouth. He was a lover of life and of people, and honey!

So there was a honey comb in a tree I was trimming, which got me to thinking about all the different flavors of honey and how absolutely irresistible it is, in any form.
Honey remains a bit on the expensive side, yet my favorite place
to purchase it is at the Farmer's market in Big Bear.
( a Tuesday gathering of who's who in BB, and yes I will take you there)

So I was dolloping honey into my tea the other night, and realizing I did not like this particular type of honey as much as I have enjoyed my Farmers market buys,
and I got to making it allegorical and philosophical and incomprehensible.
So I quit, and made it simple.
Man loves honey, once he has tasted it, he can not forget that sweetness, or the texture.
While he has fond memories of childhood honeys and the first time he picked his own honey off the shelf, when he is looking for something to sweeten his tea or decorate his English muffin, he is not really going to push away one flavor of honey because he is hooked on the Orange blossom special. The fact that he may choose a alfalfa honey to get him through the months until farmers market returns does not in any way diminish his appreciation for the Wild honey that smells as sweet as it tastes and makes him wish he was a bee, with nothing to do all day but fly from one fragrant field of flowers to the next, sipping nectar and gathering pollen and doing the dance that bees do, when they have found a patch of flowers that is rich with flavor in the warmth of a spring afternoon.

yeah, I caught a Buzz writing that!

4 comments:

-E said...

yummmm honey. now I want to find a Farmers Market to get some local honey. Something about homemade just adds a touch of love to the sweetness.

Michele sent me. Have a great weekend.

sage said...

honey, honey, good for your tummy (I've said that rhyme since a kid)

Yesterday I posted about my great-uncle. His dad, my great-granddad, had bee hives up until I was probably ten. I can still remember eating the cones when the honey was extracted. I also remember him using real butter and mixing either honey or molasses into it and slopping it up with homemade biscuits--I think I have some more writing to do, thanks for bring up the memories.

Oh yeah, Michele says hi.

craziequeen said...

I hate honey, but the Much Beloved loves it and he eats it pretty much every week - it's reputably good for hay fever..........

cq

Carmi said...

You have a lovely way of taking small moments and making them magical and memorable.

By creating linkages between the generations, you ensure the lessons will endure.