Warthog from Hell Honey
One hundred thousand Southern honeybees live on the deck of a townhouse in Old Salem where there was once a Moravian tannery .Their honey is sweet, but the bees are fierce, gathering nectar from miles Salem Creek to downtown and the centuries-old botanical gardens the Moravians planted.
No sweet name for the wild energy of hundreds of thousands of highly evolved sisters.
People like me are usually called bee keepers but I am bee kept. Nearly all the bees are highly focused women. which is humbling for me, a mere human male. At least the drones in the hive can fly. Like I would be if I tried to “keep” a pet warthog. Back when Winston-Salem had more soul, the minor league baseball team were the “Warthogs.”
TC–a Southern woman of untamed and untamable spirit suggested the name thinking of Holly Hunter in Raising Arizona: “Give me that baby, you wart hog from hell!” Women are fierce defending their children, still formidable regarding honey, too.
Flannery O’Conner’s “Revelation.” is the last short story told all the truth you can stand about Southern race, privilege, money and pride.” The story pivots on a warthog when the repellent main character dealt with a fierce southern girl: The girl raised her head. Her gaze locked with Mrs. Turpin’s. “Go back to hell where you came from, you old wart hog,” she whispered. Her voice was low but clear. Her eyes burned for a moment as if she saw with pleasure that her message had struck its target.” like a sting.
We need truth as pure as raw honey. And we taste the wild sweetness we should think of the thousands of winged sisters of Holly Hunter, Flannery O’Conner, my strong wife and our bright daughters.
The ancient ways of the bees produce almost mystical healing properties. It gives energy as powerful as the love of a good woman–that among other things has made male Southerners write bad checks and throw themselves in front of bullets for them. Drones hope for the “audible pop” of mating 50 feet in the air even thought the guy drops dead to the ground as the queen flies on. One (male) did the arithmetic and figured out that the 15 second orgasm was roughly equivalent to 30 minutes in a human male life, which seems sort of worth it, when you think about it.
Warthog kind of energy. Wild. Untamed. Untamable.
Available at the Threshold Farms booth at Cobblestone Farmers market where Marshall dead ends into Salem Avenue Saturday mornings.
The partnership with Threshold Farm and Retreat Center is deep. I help Kelly manager the hives on the farm. We are offering a workshop on Bee Spirit, about what humans can learn about our Spirit in the presence of honeybees. This is based on an upcoming book based on what I’ve learned! All the profits form both honey and workshops go to support the generative work of Threshold. You can register for the workshop here.
And let me know, if you want me to hold some honey for you, drop me a note at firstname.lastname@example.org