In Which My Honey and I Go Look At Some…Honey

I know I mentioned not too long ago that I have seen to it the human female’s favorite honey is no longer being made. It may seem like overkill, to put the producer out of business, rather than just make the honey hard to come by. But I’m nothing if not thorough! If a job is worth doing, it’s worth doing properly.

Still, honey must be had, lest the waffles go unadorned. So here we are at the local Farmer’s Market, in the hopes that one or another of the vendors there will have something suitable for sale. It is a fine fall day, and there appear to be two or three booths with honey.

This one has honey in the comb.

Is it just me or does that look like the WORST grilled-cheese sandwich in history?

There is honey not-in-the-comb.

Sleipnir’s Fetlocks! That is a lot of honey. One of those big jugs would last the human female for a long, long time. Assuming, of course, that it didn’t somehow, mysteriously, get knocked over in the pantry with its lid loosened…

This looks like a more reasonable amount, especially since honey tends to crystallize before you get to the bottom of a container anyway. (I know, I know, it can be warmed and re-liquified, but it’s still annoying.)

The man selling the honey is definitely a plant-and-insect nerd, and he is explaining–at length–what the difference between the $10 and $15 honey is. Despite myself, I find his explanation interesting. The honey on the left is made by bees who have access to many different types of flowers. It is a sort of all-around wildflower honey. The honey on the right is made only in spring by bees who are foraging almost exclusively in the local yaupon holly.

The human female is tasting the holly honey. Great Frigga’s Hairpins! If her grin is anything to judge by, a jar of this fancy bee-barf is going to follow us home. Apparently, it has a “unique, floral-y taste” that is unlike anything else. Mortal, that’s what you said about the last batch! But if it’s that good, you can be sure I’ll be having a talk with this loquacious apiarist once her back is turned. The profit margin on honey is such that it probably won’t take too large of a bribe from me to make sure it is never available ever again.

Aside from honey, the booth is selling chunks of beeswax.

I’m a big fan of beeswax. It makes a good horn polish, it smells rather nice, and a thin layer on the laminate flooring makes the Terror Twins extra-skiddy when they run laps. I could also make it into little squares, box it up prettily, and tell the human female that the New England Aunt has sent some more of her famous butternut fudge.

Sigyn is delighted to see that some of the wax has been turned into diverse array of candles.

Yes, my love, they are all very cute. The little pumpkins may be the cutest, but don’t you think the cactus looks as if it wants a hug? If you ask the honey-seller, he would probably say it’s all right for you to do so.

And the trees and puppies are fine. However, I think I see the candle *I* want down there at the end of the row…

Make your choice, my honey, because mischief awaits and we really must bee going.

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