Who am I? Good question. I have no idea how to answer that.
For now, I'm staying challenged with the sewing of late. Aprons, aprons, aprons, how I love 'em. Mom wore hers, but not like the grandmas did. Plus, the grandmas made me wear my little child aprons. But they were so cccccccccccccccuuuuuuuuuuuutttttttttteeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!
I digress.
Plus I'm challenging myself to sew adult sized Little clothing. Clothing seems to be the most difficult to buy, and I'm having issues with finding patterns.....
While I'm not sewing, stitching, crocheting, cooking, gardening, canning (whew!), I have my own little inner-city apiary.
My first up-front and personal run-in with bees was when I was about 10 years old. I had been around grandpa's hives, but never went near them, only he did. Well, Grandma Johnston (not my grandma, just her name) called up my grandpa, who in turn called my dad, to remove a swarm of bees that had landed in her tree. Of course I had to go, too! I remember the swarm being large (child's perspective) but I was intrigued. I asked my dad if I could touch the bees. He told me to go right ahead. So I did. I let them crawl over my hand. It was creepy.
Now that I have my own hives, I realize that the bees would not have stung me that day. Why? Because they were swarming. Bees sting to protect themselves, or to protect their honey. When swarming, they had no honey to protect. If they sting, they disembowel themselves, so..... good choice not to sting!
My hives are in my back yard. They do not bother anyone. I was stung a few times last year, but all times were my fault. I was not paying attention to where I was looking, and grabbed their hive and accidentally crushing them. Poor little girls! I've recently planted raspberries, after moving and leaving my inner-city crop behind. I'm hoping with the bees that my canes will flourish. Crossing my fingers!
:)
For now, I'm staying challenged with the sewing of late. Aprons, aprons, aprons, how I love 'em. Mom wore hers, but not like the grandmas did. Plus, the grandmas made me wear my little child aprons. But they were so cccccccccccccccuuuuuuuuuuuutttttttttteeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!
I digress.
Plus I'm challenging myself to sew adult sized Little clothing. Clothing seems to be the most difficult to buy, and I'm having issues with finding patterns.....
While I'm not sewing, stitching, crocheting, cooking, gardening, canning (whew!), I have my own little inner-city apiary.
My first up-front and personal run-in with bees was when I was about 10 years old. I had been around grandpa's hives, but never went near them, only he did. Well, Grandma Johnston (not my grandma, just her name) called up my grandpa, who in turn called my dad, to remove a swarm of bees that had landed in her tree. Of course I had to go, too! I remember the swarm being large (child's perspective) but I was intrigued. I asked my dad if I could touch the bees. He told me to go right ahead. So I did. I let them crawl over my hand. It was creepy.
Now that I have my own hives, I realize that the bees would not have stung me that day. Why? Because they were swarming. Bees sting to protect themselves, or to protect their honey. When swarming, they had no honey to protect. If they sting, they disembowel themselves, so..... good choice not to sting!
My hives are in my back yard. They do not bother anyone. I was stung a few times last year, but all times were my fault. I was not paying attention to where I was looking, and grabbed their hive and accidentally crushing them. Poor little girls! I've recently planted raspberries, after moving and leaving my inner-city crop behind. I'm hoping with the bees that my canes will flourish. Crossing my fingers!
:)
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