A few years ago, a friend handed me a jar of honey she’d picked up at a farmers market. No label, no bear-shaped bottle — just a mason jar with a handwritten tag that said “wildflower, July harvest.” I spread…
I still remember the first time I tasted honey straight from the comb. A neighbor had a few hives tucked behind her garden shed, and one afternoon she handed me a dripping piece of honeycomb like it was nothing. It…
Most people assume beekeeping requires a sprawling countryside property, a barn, and preferably a grandmother who already knows what she’s doing. I thought the same thing — until the spring I installed two hives on the flat roof of a…
