I’m in love.
I have my very own honeybee. I have a crown… finally.
Over my heart because I’m an old fashioned Utah girl at heart.
On a day I need to remember that I’m a strong woman, and it’s ok to be sweet too.
As a farmer, I love bees. I saw firsthand last year what colony collapse looks like… and found a bunch of disfigured bees in the garden.
It took me a minute to figure out what they were, because they had short squared off wings and kept falling off of the plants. I collected a bunch of them, and sent them to the state.
I’m 100% organic, but I would swear they’ve been exposed to something poisonous. Poor little things. I put them all in one of my bowls from the kitchen and they just stood huddled together. I fell in love with them. Poor little disadvantaged honeybees… out doing their best to help my garden.
So in homage to my poor little hardworking bees, I got my own bee. Courtesy of my dear tattoo queen honeybee herself.
Ahhhh needle therapy. Flowers…cherries…a honeybee… maybe I need a vegetable next?
Apparently you can take the girl out of the garden, but you can’t take the garden out of the girl.