By John Caldeira, with contributions from
The windshield of your vehicle has at least two
yellow dots on it.
You have answers ready for questions about
Africanized bees and the value of local honey in preventing allergies.
Year eagerly await the phone call
from the post office asking you to please come pick up your
You check out all the honey labels and prices at
You've gone through the
supermarket checkout line buying nothing more than a big load of sugar, and
maybe some Crisco.
You've estimated just how much money you spent to
You pick up matches at restaurants, even though you
Your friends and neighbors think you are the answer
to every swarm and bees-in-the-wall problem.
You are keenly aware of the first and last freezes
of each winter.
There is propolis on the steering wheel of your
vehicle and the bottom of your boots.
There is a bucket of something in your garage that
can only be good for smoker fuel.
You are called "the Bee Man," or
"the Bee Lady" by a lot of people who don't know your name.
You know the bloom period of more local flowers
than the state horticulturist.
You welcome a rainy weekend if it will stimulate
You don't mind driving home with a few honey bees
inside your vehicle.
Your family and friends know exactly what they're
going to get for Christmas.
You don't mow the lawn because the bees are working
You drive down a road and find yourself
roadside flowers for their honey-producing potential.
You pull over and check the bees on the wildflowers
just to see if they are YOUR bees, AND -- you can tell the difference.
You come home smelling like a camp fire, and you
haven't been camping.
You saw Ulee's Gold and didn't think there were
enough shots of the bees.
You overhear your 9 year old daughter explaining to her friends how to
tie a trucker's hitch.
The school principal calls to ask that
you never again let your child take a drone tied with a thread to school for show and tell.
You never stop marveling at these wonderful
Excerpts from the above list were published in American
Bee Journal (December, 1998), which prompted the following responses from readers:
You know you're married to a beekeeper
You spend at least one day a week on your hands and knees
with a sharp knife scraping wax and propolis off your kitchen floor.
You've ever used bee boxes as furniture in your house,
for coffee tables, chairs, night stands, and storage boxes.
You mow around mountains of bee equipment that never
to make it to the barn.
You plan weddings, child birth, surgery and funerals around
honey extracting time.
When buying a new truck, your spouse checks weight loads and
measures the bed to see how many hives he can fit in it.
You get stung by the bee that was clinging to your husband's
bee suit when you picked it up to wash it.