I awoke in a fevered cold sweat. I crawled back into sleep to keep the anxiety at bay for just one more hour. My fitful dreams had conjured up my mother’s voice filled with contempt, “It’s June 2nd and you are pissing your life away!”
When I shook off the dream, I ran through my daily ritual of feeding the dogs, walking around the house with tea in hand, to check every plant in the garden, and collect myself. I dug deep and realized there is inventory in my life that is just losing value as it sits. I own a horse trailer whose sale price will buy my mares six months of board. I have used it once so far this year. The season is ripe for the sale of that and several of the six saddles molding away in my tack room. “Thanks, Mom, I can do this.”
I had a busy day planned. A four-hour, free, class on memoir writing began at 10 at the Sharon Arts Center. When it finished at 2pm I was already an hour late for bee keeping class. Wilson graciously volunteered to go alone and catch me up when I could get there.
The writing class was yet another submersion into a new sea of names, faces and personalities. When you live a very solitary life with little immediate feedback, it is necessary to put yourself out there every so often. I was warmed to be among others striving and succeeding at doing what I am trying to do. There were eight of us. The instructor, Pam Bernard, led us through the four hours with exercises and discussions; it opened our hearts to believe in our ability to pursue the personal creative scenarios, as best fits with our capabilities and lives.
I should have taken ten minutes to run back up the road and check the dogs. But the breeze had been good and I knew they had water and access to the backyard so I set out for Greenfield and bee class. The venue was a beautiful grove with several brand new hives. I had no trouble spotting the cluster of people in what appeared to be “Haz Mat” suits among the clover. I quickly suited up and joined them. It was an information packed class as we inspected the hives, marked the queens and took a short break. Jodi Turner, our instructor from Imagine That Honey, had prepared trivia questions and we all got a chance to observe some very interesting hive building behavior. There was a Top Bar Hive that was in failure – queen had gone missing and the bees were laying tons of drones. But the unique construction and crisis it was facing was all fascinating.
Bee people continue to amaze me with their kindness, sincerity, and total lack of ego. I always feel so calm and refreshed after time in the hives.
Jodi is hoping to have bees for me this week. Regardless of how often my mother shows up in my dreams to chastise me about my leap-of-faith lifestyle, I must have a hive. Wilson and I will split the cost and the joy. I will push forward and pursue a life of creativity and ecological responsibility.