[I previously posted a version of this essay in my former blog.]

I never really thought much about bees other than the ones hiding in my soda can during family picnics and never had that warm fuzzy space in my heart for them the way I do for my felines. Bees aren’t fuzzy and warm and buzzing is no substitute for purring. That all changed when I met my husband, Scott. He’d kept bees for two decades so I’d inherited a hobby by marriage.   Read more here…