arrival of—what else—Varroa mites. I was super picky about hive health. These nasty mites were awful! All over the country, varroa mites, along with hive beetles, not to mention pesticides, were trying to put honey bees on the extinct list. If that happened, God forbid, the whole planet would be doomed to starvation. Maurice Maeterlinck said without honey bees, mankind only had four years and then, forget it. Doomsday.
I headed for the backyard shed where I kept my beekeeper suit. Normally, I wouldn’t see mites until late summer. But everything seemed so off kilter, I was just being extra vigilant.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I called out to my mother.
“WHAT?” she screeched back.
Put in your hearing aids, I thought. She probably didn’t even know where they were.
“I said, I’m going to check the hives!”
“Whatever! Suit yourself! Don’t be gone long. I’m getting hungry!”
Oh, eat a can of beans, I thought. Didn’t I just feed her? She drove me crazy. My mother, Katherine McNee Jensen, was one colossal pain in the derriere. She kept tabs on me like I was a child (which I was not) and treated me like her personal maid (which I was). If I didn’t have a garden and hives to tend and a volunteer job at the library, I’d go right off the deep end. I had been trying to get a teaching job at Sullivan’s Island Elementary School for years, and the best I could ever seem to get was the occasional substitute job. Because the island was so popular, there was probably a longer waiting list for teaching positions there than there was anywhere else in the state. And I sold my honey at the island’s farmers market and sometimes at the farmers market in Mount Pleasant because I harvested over a hundred pounds, sometimes much more, every year. But eight dollars a jar wasn’t going to make me rich. Eventually, I’d get a break.
I let the wooden screen door slam behind me with a loud thwack and took a long, slow, deep breath. Rise above! And how was I ever going to get out of her house and make a life for myself? I was going nowhere until she did. So, for now, I was a bachelorette, keeping my considerable favors under wraps until the right man came along. The thought of me having considerable favors worth keeping under wraps made me smile. Well, to be completely honest, many right men had come along, but they kept going, straight to the welcoming arms of my sister, Leslie. And anyway, now I had my neighbor Archie’s little boys to keep me busy. I preferred children to adults any day of the week. I’ll get to them in a moment. There’s so much to tell you.
I want to introduce you to my bees first. Everyone knows honey bees are good for the environment, but few people know why or how their hives are organized. There’s a division of labor for every stage of a honey bee’s life. Every bee has his or her job to do to ensure they continue to coexist as one. Everything they do is to preserve the colony. Humanity could take a few lessons from them. You’ll see what I mean as time goes on, the same way I came to gradually understand them. In any case, I loved the time I spent with my bees because, despite their intense activity, it was so serene. Serenity was in short supply around here. The good news was that there was zero chance of Momma following me out to the apiary. She wouldn’t come near the hives out of fear. I keep telling her she’s not sweet enough to sting. She doesn’t think that’s funny.
The apiary was in the back corner of our yard, surrounded by a pale blue picket fence, painted thusly to keep out the haints. Haints is a Gullah word for haunts or ghosts. In this part of the world, the Lowcountry of South Carolina, it was generally accepted that a thoughtful application of blue paint would keep a whole array of spirits at bay, ranging from the mischievous ilk to the downright evil. I just happened to like the color. The fence was covered on the inside perimeter with clear mesh to thwart other enemies of the hive—mainly raccoons. My hives were aqua, pale pink, and pale peach. The pastel colors made me feel like I was taking a short trip to Bermuda, and when I looked at